Somebody's Someone

As on schedule, the sun rose, giving a bright shine to the morning that a lot of people would love to bath in, but not me. I loathed the sunshine that streamed into my bedroom reminding of the day that's about to start and also hated the fact that anytime shortly, my alarm is going to screech, dared to be stopped.

I tossed and turned on the bed making a feeble attempt to cover myself better with the blanket as I stare my cat Simba meowing away, sitting next to the clock on my bedside table.

I lay there, half asleep and the other half thinking about the alarm that is going to scream its lungs off in another 7 mins to be precise.

"Who sets an alarm for 6:27?", I thought back to my mother's comment on the matter more often than required. Funny, I did not have an answer to this as well. It is probably my subconscious frail effort to do something different in my life that is otherwise being crucified with the monotonous routine at work and home.

I can hear the noise slowly raising from the outside world. People jogging, working out and doing other excruciating things to their body. I turned to look at the gym membership card that has been lying next to Simba and realize that it has been lying there for quite some time now. It wouldn't have even been there if not for my mother constantly pestering me about my 96kgs body and requesting to do something about it; though it sounded more like demanding to me.

"How in the world are you able to bare that body, Aditi?", my mother Komal would always question me.

Not that mom has trapped herself in a fit body filled with stamina and is happy for herself. She is content with her 82kgs body that she loves to think of as a 60kgs looking human form. It's cute she thinks that wearing those slim belts that help her push in her mid-riff and the coats of anti-aging creams she dons on her face will magically make her look like she has miraculously stopped aging after 40. Mom only worries about finding a groom for her Rasgulla loving daughter at least before she hits her 30th birthday which to her, will prove that she is a virtuous mother to her only child.

I still hate that day with a passion. The day I was dragged to the newly opened fitness club in my block by a monstrous looking mother not only worried for the growing weight of her loving daughter, but also the 50% discount on the gym membership.

I visited the gym on the day of registration and promptly tucked in the card under Simba's bed since to me, that day never happen in the existence of my life and shall never be talked about. I never wanted to or never will want to put myself through all that physical harassment. My mother later found out the apparently missing membership card the very next day and handed it over to me. It has since been lying there, on the table and has never been used. I was deep in the thought of how much I loved my body the way it is and was even in the midst of finalizing the infrastructure of a temple that I was to build for my own body when it happened.

The noise of a dog barking right on my ear. THE ALARM. The one thing that I dread in my life. Well, apart from cockroaches, snakes and not getting an appraisal this year. With great grief, I buried the plan of The Aditi body worship sanctuary deep inside my brain for later reference and turned off the alarm.

I sat on the bed staring at Simba who was in the process of pushing my lipstick off the table. He looked at me and at that very moment, I made it clear through my eye contact and insane telepathy skills that I do not want Simba to help the lipstick to the ground. It happens, as always; Simba shoves the lipstick to the end of the table and off it goes to the ground and under the bed.

"Wonderful," I say, thinking of all the times when Simba has pushed things off tables and other similar surfaces.

"What's with cats and shoving things offtables?" I say, addressing nobody and just because of that, I jump when I hearan answer for it.