I crashed onto my bed, face down into my pillow and I stayed there, unwavering. I tried taking a deep breath but my airflow was constricted because of the pillow. I used all of my energy to do it anyway and released the accumulated breath with force. How hard it is to just be able to breathe sometimes.
It was not a particularly difficult day for me. I came back from the only class I had that morning. And even that particular class was not difficult – a mere 50 minutes of listening to the instructor and take notes. But people exhaust me. Walking on Martin’s Way, the long bricked pathway that connected the whole campus, smiling at people every few seconds, was draining. The small campus felt even smaller during weekdays when everyone was out and about doing their work. The only place where I could find some solace amidst all the overwhelming hustle and bustle was my room.
I had to get up from my bed. My chest had started to hurt from the blockage of proper airflow. And besides, I had a long day ahead of me. Deadlines coming up, readings to take care of, club responsibilities to complete, paid low-wage job to go to — you get the gist. I managed to drag my body out of bed with the thought of one of the very few things that managed to give me momentary comfort – a hot shower. I stripped naked and wrapped myself with a towel. I looked into the mirror and realized that I needed a shave but I decided to delay the act. I had too much to do today and could not spare any extra minutes. I grabbed the bathing essentials and headed to the shower.
I turned on the shower and waited for the water to turn warm. I quickly turned on Spotify on my phone and put on Ritviz. After checking the temperature a couple of times with my fingers, I slipped in. How blessed was I to shower in warm running water without a care in the world. How different was it from Kathmandu where a slight overuse of water could cause grandmother to fuss, all for the correct reasons. Public water was nowhere to be seen (rather drink!) and private water supply was expensive.
I let my long curly hair drench in the warm water. The warm liquid on my scalp made my thoughts stop for a few seconds. The analytical college mind that constantly runs all the time could not handle this break and it started its work again. Thoughts upon thoughts surfaced. Some made sense and others did not. But, nevertheless, they came.
Nostalgia for home. Hurt over some love interest. Covert racism. The anxiety over incomplete school work. Dreams for a better future.
I tried organizing all my thoughts into a coherent analytical framework but I could not. How could I? Not everything can be organized into theories and models and statistics.
I stepped out of the shower with a newfound energy for the day. It always happened, this temporary excitement for the day. But who would tell me that every day was the same – dull and boring.
Maybe drinking the fake chai tea in the boujie cafe could revive my spirits again?