Leaving his home to go back to mine. Fuck. I really, really hope that we can work things out. Why are we not able to communicate? Why does the gap feel so wide no matter how much I explain, again and again, that I do not mean to hurt him\u2026 hurt any of them? I feel torn\u2026 but Amma and Appa need my help at home. Lockdown has been so damn hard. It was hard enough getting tickets to go back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Day 1 (first half): Numb. Numb. Numb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Day 1 (second half): No, it\u2019s a mistake. We just spoke after ten days. He will come back. This feels too hasty. We talked for like, 20 minutes. On the phone. Who takes only 20 minutes to break up?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Day 3: Phone beeped. He sent me a picture of all my things in his house, packed up. Asked me what I would like him to do with them. Throw them in the gutter, I wanted to say. No call, no reassurance. Okay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Day 8: It’s okay. Maybe we will get back together. We have too much history. We should just let things take their course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I decided I needed to do something while I waited. I needed a job. After having quit the plum corporate non-profit post, mostly so I didn\u2019t have to face workplace gossip over my failed engagement, I was back in my old room, my old city, trying to make sense of my shattered self. There was a vacancy in the school nearby. Might as well, I thought. I enjoyed teaching, right? It had been nearly five years since I was a full-time teacher, but it can\u2019t be that different, I figured. The pay was abysmal, over 10k less than what I was receiving earlier, but I didn\u2019t have it in me to negotiate. I signed the appointment letter without protest.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 15: Maybe he\u2019s just waiting for the right time. It\u2019s lockdown na, hard to move around only. Can\u2019t cross state borders yet. I\u2019m sure he wouldn\u2019t want to have this conversation over the phone. He likes things to be done properly, after all. I just need to be patient.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 20: Maybe I should call him. But what will I say if I call? I can\u2019t tell him I have decided differently. Because I haven\u2019t. And I can\u2019t decide that, being here at home with a million things to do everyday. Why does he not get that? I don\u2019t want to give him what he so deeply desires simply so that he will be happy, anymore. Not when it\u2019s causing so much pain inside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 28: You bastard. You\u2019re throwing away all our history, EVERYTHING we have been through, because I want us to live separate from your parents? Can you hear yourself? Do you realise how absurd that sounds?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 40: \u2026 Is he\u2026 not calling? Is he not coming back? No one from his side is talking to me. His friends unfollowed me on Insta. Do they all hate me so much? If an entire bunch of people feel like we shouldn\u2019t get back together, does that really mean I am a fuckall person?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I sat at the dining table, with my laptop in front of me. To my right was a notebook with lesson plans for the day ahead. To my left was my phone and morning coffee, soon to get cold. They said that for the first month I was to only observe classes, and that I should have my video and audio off so as to not startle the children. Ingenious, how the multiple complexities of 3D existence could be contained in 2D windows. It must be one heck of a vacation for the kids.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 60: Maybe I am not worthy. There were so many things I did wrong. I shouldn\u2019t have said what I said to his sister. And then his mother. And his father. Maybe they all felt that I was not a good human being. Not caring. Too self-involved. Too self-serving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 61: Too dishonest. Too manipulative. Not like their people. No poise. No grace. Not\u2026 good\u2026 enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 62: Terrible Therapist says, you need to look at things more objectively. Is it rude to flip her off during the session? That’s what my best friends say. That’s what random Instagram support pages say. That’s what the Bumble bff I confided in for no particular reason also says. All saying shit without any explanation because they\u2019re tired of my tension.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo as I was saying, the Mughals introduced many things to India. But can you guess which everyday activity was introduced by them?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat\u2019s an everyday activity, ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLike a hobby. Which one do you think it is?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am! Football!\u201d \u201cMa\u2019am, gunfighting!\u201d \u201cCooking?\u201d \u201cNo, it\u2019s wrestling!\u201d \u201cHow is wrestling an everyday activity, da?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n A shy voice amidst them all, spoken by an icon with a large grey N in the middle, \u201cMa\u2019am, is it\u2026 gardening?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, Naren! It is indeed gardening. They introduced the large, geometric charbaghs, and while it was many, many years before people had their own private gardens (that came with the British) the idea of a green space that was also made stylishly came from them. Thank you Naren, that was a good guess\u2026 Naren? Are you there?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am he isn\u2019t in the class anymore. His phone probably died.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBeen happening a lot, no?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry Ma\u2019am, he bunks other classes also.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 63: What if the roles were reversed, they ask, what would you think? Well of course if they were reversed, I would look like a colossal bitch because I just let someone I love go because I couldn\u2019t even think <\/em>of living just two minutes away from my parents\u2019 but the roles are NOT reversed and he\u2019s a boy and I\u2019m a girl and what he wants just feels\u2026 So. Fucking. Justified\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 75: State borders have opened. Still no contact. He had said if we broke up now, before things got worse, at least we could remain friends. What a fucking joke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am, you still haven\u2019t corrected our homework!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes ma\u2019am, it\u2019s been two weeks already!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I can feel my eyes burning, my lower back aching. I do everything recommended by all the well-intentioned people in my life to fix it. I leave the laptop every 20 minutes, walk, stretch, drink water, eat well. I walk as much as the limited space in my 10 x 10 room will allow, open the window for fresh air. But the minute classes are over, all I want to do is sleep away the pain around my eyes. But the pain doesn\u2019t leave me, and I\u2019m resigned to nightmares so vivid, I wake up tired.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am? Can I request something?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course, dear. Tell me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am, my sister and I cannot submit homework on separate accounts. We are using the same phone and the Teams app can only have one account at a time. Can I just submit her homework and mine on the same account?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, definitely. Don\u2019t worry about it.\u201d I say, not referring to the fact that I haven\u2019t checked either one\u2019s homework in the past term.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 81: Signed up on a dating app. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Match. Everyone\u2019s a traveller. A rider. A diver. A \u2018misfit\u2019. With a million one-word describers. Why are <\/em>men?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 82: Let\u2019s meet, says a bee in the area. Wtf, it\u2019s still lockdown. Red flag red flag red flag. App delete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 90: Texted the ex. Some books were left over at his house. Told him I\u2019ll get them picked up. He asks, \u201cAre you back?\u201d Something boils with anger inside me. I moved to your town because of you and only you. Why would I be \u2018back\u2019? \u201cNo\u201d, I said. Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 93: Finding solace in feminist decrying of marriage. And male entitlement. Relationships in India. Monogamy. Patriarchy. Heteronormativity. It’s all a terrorist plot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I sat in a classroom empty of students. It\u2019s November, the rainiest month of the year for us. The only ones here are two other teachers, all of us sitting about 10 feet away from each other. We have arranged the classroom to accommodate our privacy, using chart-paper partitions and noise-cancelling headphones. But we still disrupt each other\u2019s classes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy they can\u2019t just pay our internet bill and let us stay home, I don\u2019t understand. What difference does it make, taking online class here or at home? At least there I can get the chores done. We are not even wearing masks!\u201d a senior teacher grumbled.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAs if teachers don\u2019t have families. I have a five- and a seven-year-old at home attending online classes. Who is supposed to take care of them?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat about your husband?\u201d I asked.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She laughed. \u201cMy husband can\u2019t find his way to the dustbin in the house, let alone cook. It\u2019s better if I\u2019m there, otherwise there\u2019s too much work when I get back.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 127: Had a call with a friend today. Finally talked about something other than how I am doing mentally… Our views on education, childhood. Manipulative teachers. Felt a rather warm stir in my heart. But then we don\u2019t get in touch for months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 130: Re-installed dating app. Adjusted filters. Swipe, match. Hello, the bee said. Didn\u2019t ask my name or my number, for once. Ranted over everything from Modi to monarchy and the cats we love. Somewhere, in the gap between the screen and my face, it felt like a first date going well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Day 150: Phone beeps. Oh right. Forgot about the bee. Ugh\u2026 can\u2019t be bothered, it\u2019s still lockdown. App delete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why does the gap feel so wide no matter how much I explain, again and again, that I do not mean to hurt him… hurt any of them? I feel torn\u2026 but Amma and Appa need my help at home. Lockdown has been so damn hard.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":511,"featured_media":26671,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3401,4429],"tags":[4472,4475,4470,2245,672,2315,4471,121,26,2204,2200,1937,296,2955,2199,99,68,25,2833,4476],"class_list":{"0":"post-26669","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-fiction-poetry","8":"category-the-pandemic-and-sexuality","9":"tag-4472","10":"tag-breakup","11":"tag-corona","12":"tag-coronavirus","13":"tag-couples","14":"tag-covid","15":"tag-covid-19-2","16":"tag-feminism","17":"tag-gender","18":"tag-isolation","19":"tag-lockdown","20":"tag-loneliness","21":"tag-marriage","22":"tag-online-classes","23":"tag-pandemic","24":"tag-relationships","25":"tag-sex","26":"tag-sexualities","27":"tag-social-distancing","28":"tag-teaching"},"menu_order":0,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26669","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/511"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=26669"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26669\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":26723,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26669\/revisions\/26723"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/26671"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=26669"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=26669"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=26669"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Cover Image: Photo by Grianghraf<\/a> on Unsplash<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"