'Swathi! Oh Swathi! Can't you hear me?'
'Haan Amma, I am reading, what is it?'
'Swathi, you didn't eat the sambar rice, and now the surplus will have to be eaten tomorrow.'
'Amma, it's just that I wanted to eat an omelet, my mind and body were craving to eat it.'
'Oh! It's ok! You do whatever you want; I will eat it with my oats tomorrow. But I just feel you keep wasting food prepared by me, and I don't feel it is right.'
Swati froze. She didn't know how to react. She was sitting in the hall with her book, not knowing what to say because a lot was already said and once again her mother proved to be the bigger person.
Her mother's words made her feel a mixture of emotions. She felt guilty that she didn't feel sad that her mother had to eat the leftover sambar the next day with oats. Her desire to be independent, by choosing her own food, didn't make her feel completely happy because it made her selfish, too.
'Aaaah, I am a self-serving, manipulative idiot!' Swati thought to herself as she walked upto the kitchen and kept the plate in the sink, rinsing it with a lot of noise, before departing to her room.
The mobile in her hand found itself looking for houses in Bangalore for rent. Not being able to stop the spiralling search for houses it had to execute, the mobile got switched off, and zero battery was its only excuse.
Wham! Swati banged the door, and plopped on her bed. What the hell was wrong with her? Why would she try running away at the first sign of trouble?
Hadn't her ex-boyfriend said the same thing about her? That she runs away whenever there's a conflict in her mind?
Now, she was feeling caged in her mind. That she couldn't express her freedom without causing trouble to others plagued her, making her feel the strong urge to move out of the house, which always cropped up whenever she felt difficulty communicating her needs to her parents.
'We have given you the choice to do whatever you want; what more freedom do you need?' her mother had told her sometimes, and she cringed now for wanting to run away from the house.
'You are a pampered girl who doesn't understand the outside world,' she could hear her teacher's voice in her head. Maybe he was right. 'I am a privileged brat, I am ashamed of myself at the way I still behave.'
Swati switched off the light, but even the darkness couldn't stop these thoughts from growing into a gigantic tree, whose burden she bore, now and then, even in her dreams, as she shuddered and mumbled through the night.
'Swati, we are going to Lalbagh; please close the door,' her mother said, knocking at her door the following day.
Groggy and sleepy, Swati made her way into the kitchen. It was Sunday, and she was glad that there was no morning meeting that she had to join through her laptop because she hadn't combed her hair. She would have had to keep the camera off, infuriating her teammates as usual, who often asked to see her. 'Well, they could see her work, wasn't that enough?'
The elaichi chai frothing before her took the frown away from her face, bringing an indulgent smile. Placing the tea cup near her cheek, inhaling the irresistible flavor of elaichi, she gave an orgasmic sigh, savoring the sunshine on her balcony.
As she sat there, basking under the sun's glory, the song 'Born Free, Born Wild' by John De Son started playing on her mobile's Spotify application.
'Born free, born wild', she started singing along and then got up, placing the teacup to the side.
She began dancing with slow wobbly steps, and then her pace quickened. Swati did a twirl, jumped, and circled around her balcony, her head turned towards the sky.
'Oh I feel so free, singing and dancing. In the same way, I need to express myself more clearly to Amma and Pappa, and stop doubting myself.' Swati told herself.
'But what about staying independently?'
'Swati, do you really feel that staying in a different house will make you more independent?' she questioned herself, but even as she made that statement, she realized it was her mother speaking and not her.
'I need to own my voice, and until then I can't take the decision of moving out or moving in, for running away will not help me find my voice.'
'For my voice has often been feeble, apologetic or extremely self-critical. I am not going to apologize to the world anymore. Have I not often felt, that others words don't matter? I am now going to put it in practice.'
She closed her eyes and continued dancing with bold gestures, her actions mirroring her emotions
'Be a bit selfish to be yourself! I am born to be like the mammoth elephants of Africa, who have never fought for their freedom, for it was always just theirs implicitly, they were born free, born wild and so am I.' Swati said recalling a documentary on African elephants she had watched and went inside with confidence and pride.
Swati had gained some insight on her interactions through her reflections on the terrace. But was it enough? Perhaps yes or perhaps not, only time will tell.
