My favourite dish is aalu paratha. whenever my mom wants to make me feel better she treats me with aalu paratha. I myself make really good aalu paratha. In the past two years i might have had over a 1000 aalu parathas but have not tasted any. My taste buds have been dead, i get a metal taste in the mouth, and recently for some reason, everything tastes bitter. People ask me about the biggest challenges i am facing and sometimes even tell me themselves, they tell me the challenges like finding the will power to live, the fight against giving up. But honestly i must have thought about life and death only maybe 6 times in total in the past two years. Most of the time i think of how much it sucks to not be able to taste aalu paratha.
My point is the problems people think i have and the problems i really have are very different. I am not scared of death. I am not scared of death because it is not going to happen and even if it does i will be the least affected by it. I know i keep saying that "the best thing happening to you at the moment is that your are alive", yes it is the best thing but it also scares me sometimes. Today evening i was out on an adventure. I got off a taxi at Jahangir Art Gallery to meet a friend. Since she had to first attend an exhibition, i opted to find us a place to sit otherwise i would have had to climb stairs and that would have been a nightmare. As she entered the gallery i started walking, or i must say crawling towards the Kala Ghoda to find a restaurant. To give you an image of how i looked, i have tiny fresh baby hair or my head, I was wearing a white mask, an aqua marine collar t-shirt, black jeans and blue sneakers, and of course the new addition to my attire, my walker.
While looking for the restaurant, i saw myself across the road. A bunch of mid 20s boys and girls. I saw a guy, tall, lean, great hair but not combed, stubble and probably didn't take a bath today. Full of energy and was practically dancing on the spot as spoke loudly which seemed to come naturally to him. He had a smoke in his hand and he probably didn't give a fuck about the world in that moment at least. Looking closely every other boy in the group was absolutely like that. I stood there and looked at them (tried very hard not to be a creep) till they eventually started walking away and disappeared. But the little while i was staring at them, i seemed to have joined that group in a parallel world. I was again tall, lean, untidy hair, stubble, dirty shirt, riding a bike, eating road side food, holding hands of a girl, hugging, stealing kisses and not giving a fuck about the world. Then I turned towards the door of the restaurant, saw a flight of stairs and came back to reality.