Note—This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real events, people, or places are purely coincidental. It’s a story of an ordinary day where a few loops make it unordinary. I hope this will be worth your time.
Kira was awake momentarily—thrice, before actually waking up at six. She remembered the dream she was in and also how she was fully aware of her surroundings for the last three hours, even when she was asleep.
As usual, she woke up, went to the bathroom, and then sat on the stairs beside the balcony. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were sweating. Her eyes were still sensitive to light, and she squinted at the brightness coming from outside.
The sun had just come up. She glanced at it momentarily, smiled at it, and instantly unlocked her phone. It was the thing her hyperactive brain prioritized—the thing it thought could help bury all her worries, impulses, and fears.
She remembered that she had slept around midnight yesterday. Waking up at six wasn’t really in her plan, but it wasn’t under her control.
She refreshed the already open tab on her phone, yawning. Almost instinctively, she pulled down the screen and clicked on the Wi-fi icon and waited for the page to reload. The Wi-Fi usually took around five seconds to turn on. She was shaking her legs while waiting in anticipation.
The first thing on the refreshed page was ‘a like’ on something from her friend. She scrolled past it immediately and looked for other updates. There was nothing important in it. She scrolled through some YouTube shorts mindlessly, and when they didn’t seem to help her racing heart and her already heavy head, she put the phone down. She looked at the plant pots outside.
It’s okay. I know I messed it up, but it’s okay. Whoever wants to be mad can stay mad. I can’t stop existing just because I pissed everyone off, right? I am sorry for ruining it. I just wish she wasn’t mad at me.
I should have taken medicine last night. I really couldn’t sleep well without it. Do I still really need to take meds? What will I even say to the doctor if—if only—I visit him?
She heaved a sigh as her eyes remained fixated on the pots.
What’s the point anyway? It’s me only who ruins everything—for myself only, and that too deliberately.
But what the hell should I do with this whole ‘sleeping’ thing? I can’t take those meds forever. I really feel like going to a psychiatrist. But for what man? For not being able to control myself and my thoughts?
And who will convince mom and dad? I don’t care. Honestly, I...
Let it be. Let’s not think like that.
Her butt had started to hurt from sitting on the stairs in the same position for twenty minutes—she really didn’t even move an inch.
She finally stood up and came back to her room. The time on her phone showed six thirty-eight already.
She sat down to study, but again—as nearly always, the thoughts kept looping.
Something is definitely off. Her tone was different. I wish I could make things go back to as they were. I miss Sarah. I lost her—her too. What did I do though? Why are we so distant now? Why am I like this? Why can’t I be like everyone else? I am such a big loser.
Her forehead became creased as she kept shaking her legs and spinning the pen in her right hand.
Bro, stop it. See, this is why you feel the way you feel. Because you do it deliberately yourself. What’s even the point of thinking about all this stuff? Just pick up the damn notebook and start preparing for the test.
She opened the textbook and turned the page to the topic she needed to cover. The shaking of her legs was a bit more intensified.
I am not even reading books these days.
Urghhh! Hell with it. Let’s focus on studying first. We’ll deal with it later.
She took a deep breath in, relaxed her forehead, and whispered, “I am sorry. Let’s start it now.”
She took out her notes notebook and started reading the text from the book. She removed the pen’s cap and after writing the date, she realised her exam is not too far away now. She looked up from the book and stared at the wall in front of her.
The test is so close. Damn. I am not prepared at all. I should at least do well in college exams, but here also I am stressed unnecessarily and not studying.
Why am I even chasing people?
I don’t want to lose Sarah. I don’t want to have nobody to talk to.
Quin and I also don’t talk much these days.
Whom should I tell all the things that keep circling my mind? And if nobody would be there for me, then what will happen?
I don’t want to be an attention seeking or a burdensome person by telling my problems.
And I try not to say it, but how can anyone stop themselves from opening up to people they look forward to talk to?
Damnn! This is messed up bro.
She put the pen down. Her neck moved as if she had gulped something as she kept staring at the pictures of her role models on the wall. She reached for her water bottle.
I am really sorry.
And it’s okay.
It’s really okay.
We can do it. We don’t need anything or anyone.
Freaking learn to live without depending on anyone, Kira.
Each voice had a different tone, and they kept saying something she didn’t want to listen to or acknowledge but couldn’t help but do so.
She again tried to read from the textbook. Her legs were continuously in sideways motion, and fidgeting of the pen continued too. The small rubber pad attached to the upper region of the pen for grip, seemed soothing to rub the side of her finger on.
After a while she got up from her chair and went downstairs to prepare some tea and breakfast.
Again, she played some random videos on her phone and placed it on the chair near the basin. She started brushing her teeth while staring somewhere around the tap, but she wasn’t looking.
Why? You really are an idiot, Kira.
She paused for a second and lifted her eyes up.
I’m sorry.
I said sorry. Let’s let it go now.
Breathe, Kira. Breathe.
She exhaled deeply, rinsed her mouth, and finally after washing her face, her eyes went to the mirror—above the washbasin and in front of her.
For a moment, she felt a sense of pity. She relaxed her frowned forehead and just looked in the mirror—not asking any questions for a moment; just looked.
The water droplets trickled down her face. Her dry eyes stung as water came into their contact. She dabbed her face dry with a towel, took a deep breath, and looked in the mirror again.
How much she blamed herself, and how tormenting it gets sometimes. She felt it but couldn’t even voice it in her head.
You’re beautiful, Kira. Maybe we can do this.
No. You’re just stupid. A damn loser.
The voices spoke and irked her again. She picked up the phone from the stairs to change the video—which was making no sense to her—to another nonsensical self-help video.
She made tea with extra ginger and tea leaves. She inhaled the fragrance of the boiling tea along with air, but it couldn’t get to her senses today—she was busy listening to the drama going inside her mind.
After that she went to the narrow lane that led to the front gate of her house—barely even a chair fit there, but that was the only space that felt breathable to her.
She took the first sip, and the warmth of tea and kick of ginger moistened and relaxed her stinging dry throat. She closed YouTube and again opened her profile on the phone.
One of her friends from school posted a picture of her first book that was published recently. She commented under it, “Many many congratulations girl! This is incredible. I look forward to reading it. So proud of you,” with six different smiling, heart and party emojis.
There was still no trace of smile on her face yet, though. She refreshed the page to look for Sarah’s message, but there was nothing.
She took another sip and felt that the tea was already growing cold.
She deserves it. She works so hard. And not to mention that she published it alongside freelancing and her entrance exam prep. How does she do that? And here is me. I claim to love reading but can’t even do that. My writing sucks. Even a fifteen-year-old writes better than me. And I wanted to be a writer once.
She smirked as she sipped the last few sips of tea.
Well done loser. Well done. Keep comparing. Just keep doing it. You’re gonna go miles for sure.
Keep thinking, too, and then say that you feel weird, anxious, ‘not good’.
Her chest tightened and she felt her stomach knotting too.
I gotta stop it somehow. I can’t go back in that zone again. Kira, you have to do something.
My head already feels heavy. I gotta buy a strip of that medicine today only. I have to fix my sleep anyhow.
She went back to the kitchen and poured some more tea into her glass. She took a sip and realised it had gotten cold. She poured the tea back into the pot and reheated it as she pulled out a large packet of biscuits. She poured the tea back into her glass and sat down on the stairs this time.
She put on another video, and this time focused on it—in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts.
This doesn’t work this way, Kira. You know this isn’t the right way. Just stop eating. We can’t gain back the weight again.
One more biscuit and I’ll stop.
She had five biscuits and again said, “Only one more”.
The packet was gone in no time, and now her stomach was not only knotted but bloated too.
See, I told you. This doesn’t work. Now sulk again over the calories. I hate this.
It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll just skip the dinner today. It’ll be fine.
She looked at the birds chirping outside. If it was any other day she would have admired them, but today even the birds couldn’t capture her attention.
She kept holding the glass in both of her hands. The bottom part of the empty glass was still warm against her cold hands.
It’s okay. Breathe, Kira. Breathe.
By now, the loop was fully fed about how it was her who was at fault always.
I hate you. You’re are really stupid. Loser.
She tried relaxing her forehead and exhaled deeply.
These are just thoughts. Let them pass.
She tried to ignore them, but that wasn’t what was happening today.
My heart is breathing faster. I don’t want to be anxious. Please, just stop thinking, Kira. Please.
She drank some water and went back to her room upstairs.
She sat down on the chair and pulled out her diary. She spun the pen for a few times before putting it down to write. After writing ‘Dear Diary’ and staring at it for a few seconds, she dropped the pen on the bed and took out her phone again.
After another hour of trying to numb herself through useless videos, she moved to the chair again and opened her laptop this time.
It was ten in the morning, and she still had so many chores and tasks to finish.
She liked things being in order. She couldn’t leave her room or kitchen messy for long but today was not any other day.
When she saw the time on her laptop, she flinched instinctively. Her heart thumped louder for a moment but then she whispered.
Let it be. It doesn’t matter. I’ll do it later. Let’s try writing first.
Breathe, Kira.
Breathe.
She said that but felt differently—another mistake and another food for the ‘I’m sorry loop.’
She still couldn’t think of anything but somehow started writing cathartically. It turned out to be sort of a poem.
The poem—
It’d have been probably better without me,
It is what I feel sometimes.
I know it’s just a thought,
But it feels cozy for a while.
‘Messing-up everything’ has returned back again,
It’s been only a few days, though,
I wish it goes away quickly,
But it doesn’t feel that way, you know.
Why?
Because I am again eating a lot these days,
‘It’s nothing,’ I know you’ll say.
But hear me out, there’s some more.
I am not studying,
I am just watching phone all day,
My mood sucks,
And I feel like being a burden or a misfit again.
Everything again, has started to feel like a film,
Like I am just watching life go on,
As I sit in front of that Tv screen.
I know it’ll pass away,
If I try harder,
But I am not able to do that yet,
And it seems to me like a huge problem.
It took me so long to lose that weight,
What if I gained it back again?
It took me enough time to be comfortable around books,
But now exams are coming,
And I have started to repel them once again.
I am not feeling excited in the morning these days,
I sit up and just watch phone and eat Seetaphal all day.
Yeah, I play the victim card in all this mess and say,
“You’re stressed and it’s your fault again.”
I just have to study and not overthink,
I know that bro,
My mind just keeps on repeating—
“I don’t know this, I don’t know that,
I’ll score poorly, once again,
And it’d be again my fault.”
It’s not just studies,
It’s other things too,
I don’t know why all of a sudden,
“I am messing it up” feeling is intensified,
But it ain’t pleasant or useful,
I just got that right.
I am gonna study though,
I am gonna work things out now,
I’ll keep an eye on my diet,
And I’ll also try to be,
The one I was in the mid,
Even if it doesn’t make sense.
I gotta stop comparing too,
“I am just fine the way I am”
My mind really needs to know.
It’s messed up,
I know dear me,
But can we please,
For once,
Just make things right again,
Without letting it be worse,
And then wait for it to pass—
Like a cloud, again.
I know this is attention seeking,
Honestly, I really hate that,
Why am I even doing this then,
‘Cause I felt like letting it out,
And also, probably because I don’t know.
She kept staring at the screen for a few moments before inhaling air as if she was starving for it.
Come on. Let’s try. We can do it.
She stood up from the chair.
I don’t want to do it.
She took a deep breath and exhaled; her lips pouted while doing so.
We have to. There’s no other choice. Let’s go.
She went downstairs again and walked up to the kitchen first. She left the phone on the stairs and looked at the dirty dishes and the flour sprinkled on the platform from yesterday’s cooking.
She heaved a sigh and took the kitchen cloth.
Let’s go, Kira.
She cleaned the platform and then moved to the dishes. In between, she did reach out to her phone, but feeling already clouded by her thoughts, she decided to take some real time off from it.
The thoughts weren’t too intimidating now—she could see them as ‘thoughts’ and not as a ‘threatening reality’.
“Now, this is therapeutic,” she said after scrubbing all the utensils; when only rinsing was left.
The feeling of cold water on her hands, the refreshing scent of soap, and the appearance of shiny-fresh dishes after getting washed, made her heartbeat slow down too.
After putting the dishes in the rack and giving her clean kitchen a good look, she went inside the room with her phone.
After scrolling for another fifteen-twenty minutes, the blank stare broke and she looked up.
Oh no. We’re on our phone again.
Gosh! I gotta stop using it. I gotta try to make this work now. Let’s pick up that novel today.
Yeah, we have this. Let’s go.
She quickly went upstairs again and took out the novel she had left off around fifteen days ago.
She started reading and was soon engrossed in it. She did reach for her phone in between but then put it away.
The passage in the book where the protagonist’s father had a habit of carrying a bag (Jhola—as it was written in Hindi) every time he went out made her smile widely. Her own father did that too, and it reminded her of him.
After around forty minutes she closed the book and stretched her arms.
That was such a nice read. Now I do know why this was said to be a magical read. I’ll finish it soon, I think. I also want to write like this someday.
Let’s study a bit now. The hell with the test. I don’t care about it. But let’s at least study just for the sake of it.
We love the topic, right? Let’s try, Kira.
Let’s Try.
She went to her study table and put a timer for exactly thirty minutes.
We’ll pull this off. Let’s do it.
She started making notes and forgot about the time.
When the timer rang later, it didn’t occur to her that she only had put it.
She turned it off and continued. After another thirty minutes, when she checked her phone, she realised that one hour of studying was really done.
This wasn’t bad.
But I still am so behind the syllabus. What will I even write?
Let it be. Who cares? Didn’t we just like reading about it? Loving what you study is important. Exams are just useless.
What if I really score too bad?
If we finish the syllabus well, slowly and mindfully, we will be able to write enough to pass. Nothing else matters.
Yeah, it’s true. Let it be. I liked this session, though.
She opened her phone and played a song. It was ‘Tum se hi.’
Being able to listen to a romantic song is also such a privilege no?
We don’t really like listening to them when the mood is off. I like it now and just wish it stays like this. We have to balance things better, Kira.
It’s all okay. It’s okay.
She opened her account and found that Sarah had texted. Her lips curved into a big smile. She rushed to open it and was relieved after seeing that it was all normal.
She isn’t mad at me! See, she’s sharing her daily stuff. She isn’t mad at me!
Her ringing phone interrupted her trail of thoughts. She smiled at it and picked up the call. It was her dad’s.
She walked to the balcony while still being on the phone. It was afternoon, and everything was covered in the sun’s yellow warmth. The leaves of the trees in the house in front were swaying with the wind. She smiled seeing them and took a deep rejuvenating breath.
Later in the evening—
That’s the weird thing about it, you know. I found some things written by me two years ago. I did forget that I used to feel all that I fear so much now and seeing them made me realise that maybe these weird days never fully left.
Days are better lately, but the essence of those impulses is still there and sometimes, not only the essence, but those thoughts and tendencies also return back.
I always think that I will be better at handling those things after each instance, but that’s the thing, I feel that every time and I feel the same fear always too. I used to feel better—it used to feel tolerable—after sleeping earlier, you know. Now, the pattern is such that in those loops, thoughts don’t take a break even in sleep.
I read it, you know. The inherent tendencies are still the same. It’s as if I am now so used to them that I don’t feel as if it’s a big problem until one day—when everything seems to fall apart.
I do need to address it in the same way I apologize to others on realising what could have gone wrong, on my part, from the beginning.
It’s selfish of me to think that someday I will sit down and talk endlessly about what happened, how it happened, how it still happens, and how can I move forward now, with someone.
I gotta earn enough to be able to afford to go for therapy without worrying about anything or anyone. Will these patterns go away then? Who will I be without them? It’s difficult to even imagine. These things have really become a part of me, I feel.
I need to buy that medicine. It’s normal, I know, but still, it scares me a bit when my heart starts racing, and I can feel the thoughts playing around in my sleep. I don’t like to feel my heart beating right after waking up. It’s uncomfortable.
It feels like a waste of time and money. And the worst part is that I know that I need to address it properly and not just look for temporary fixes. But I don’t know how to make that happen. I don’t have that kind of autonomy yet.
I know you might be feeling, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’re making it sound too much.”
Yes, you’re right. It’s not a big deal. I’m just weird probably. Even with a stomachache, I feel like getting it checked up. Then this one—the one that’s keeping me and my lover, Sleep, separate—is indeed a little of a deal for me.
She put the pen down, took a deep breath in, and closed the notebook.
Weird, huh? Maybe I exaggerated. But it felt good, finally being able to let it out. Phew!
I hope I get a decent sleep today. I’ll definitely buy that strip tomorrow.
She turned the lights off, put her phone beside the pillow, and finally lay down.
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Thank you so much for reading.
I would love to know your views, thoughts and feedback on this one. Do let me know.
Ps- I know this was long and probably a bit repetitive, lacking a narrative type of read. I do agree most of my writings are like this. But lately, I have realised something. Yes, I have to improve my writing a lot, if I ever want to pursue it professionally. And secondly, I have this privilege of writing freely as long as I am not depending on it for anything. I should be grateful for that freedom for now. I hope what I am saying is making sense.
Until Next Time,
Take great care.
Seeya soon in the next one.
Yours,
Ameliorating A
What the hell?!!!! This is SO good. 🤯
Good read with nice touch of poem i think its unique!!!