She was nick-named Sara. She was staring into the empty space. She could feel an expression of frustration on her face. She wasn’t feeling completely lonely. She was just a little upset. She was wondering why people behaved the way they did. Not getting what she demanded never made much difference to her. She normally did not make demands. She would stay content with what she got.
Just that this was her first first trimester. She was starving. She was travelling. It was going to be a long journey. Even the look of those sweet, oily, soggy pancakes was making her feel like vomit. She couldn’t bear thinking of eating something sweet. The bus stopped for a break. Sara requested a packet of chips.
He got down the bus only when it was about to start it’s journey again. He came back when the bus was already moving. He came back running, empty-handed. Sara didn’t say anything. He justified saying he had to run back to the bus as it was already moving. Many people boarded the moving bus with things that they bought from the shop at the stop.
Trivial things. Trivial matters. She was staring into empty space again. Her stomach churning. There was nothing to say. She tried looking at the sweet pancakes. Her heart and stomach revolted. She turned her face away with a final ‘No’ to herself for pancakes. She liked the empty space better. She had to stay empty. The struggle was over. The bus was not going to stop again for a long time.
She was experiencing those odd feelings that travelled from a pregnant woman’s stomach to the mouth. She was trying to concentrate on the monotonous view outside the bus window. Her gut was so full of interesting happenings at that time that she did not reflect on the fact that she was being purposefully denied what she needed so badly; a pinch of salt.
Small things demolish important relations and turn them empty.
–END–
