mirror

Half my day was spent sleeping with alcohol in my system and when I did wake up, with a pounding headache and red rimmed swollen eyes of course, it was because my father had the audacity to throw cold water on my face.

I looked around and then at him. His face was filled with anger, real anger, and he held the now empty bucket of water in his hands.

"what happened?" I asked and depressed ghetto urge to throw up. the world was a little blurry and tilted. After effects of the vodka no doubt.

" what happened? You have the nerve to ask me what happened!? I swear I'm getting a feel you're becoming a lost cause."

his shouting wasn't appreciated one bit, if anything it increased my headache all that much more.

"Get to the point, old man. which dog bit you so early in the morning?"

I soon realized that it was a very wrong choice of words as I felt a tight slap right on my face. This had to be the first time in years that he'd hit me. It was enough to bring me back to my senses. I looked up the him and saw the shadows on his face, noticed the dark circles that I hadn't seen before. He looked worn and I was a little wary of the state I had put us into.

" what happened is something that you need to answer, more to yourself than to me. what are you, 21? And you're acting like you've forgotten how to live!" his tone was cold enough that I knew not to interrupt him.

He looked at me once an pinched the bridge of his nose. Then took a deep breath and stared at me with what was nothing but doubt .

"You were living before that girl entered your life, you can't quit living now! look at you, I've seen drunkards sleeping on the streets who are in better shape than you." he shook his head in dismissal and turned around to leave.

" go to the college and meet the HOD of your department. She'd called, maybe you can still pass the semester." he said without looking at me just as he was leaving the room. The disappointment in his voice was heartbreaking.

closing my eyes for a brief second I lay back down, the mattress felt wet and dirty beneath my back and after a few minutes I brought myself to get up and study my reflection.

The mirror seemed like an enemy as I watched my reflection. Dark brown, almost black hair greasy and dirty, my skin was pale and red and appeared like that of the drug addicts who had lost it to the high. My black eyes, or at least I thought they were black until the moment, were actually brown. A very dark shade of brown which was now a little lighter and looked that of a wood. Not like Hayat's of course. My eyes would've been warm and welcoming, if they weren't so red and swollen and sickly.

What was letting myself become? Even Ishan was better than me.

"What are you, 21?" I asked my reflection the small equation that my father had asked me.

my reflection didn't answer, funny thing was that even my reflection looked disappointed.

I needed to do something, anything that would change my current situation. As crazy as it sounded, I felt dirty being in my own skin. I felt dirty knowing that I was ruining everything, for myself and for my father who'd compared me to drunkards sleeping on streets. I felt even dirtier than when I'd walked in a room with Hayat's blood and her cold eyes staring at nothing. that itself spoke in volumes.

I nauseous and for once alcohol had nothing to so with it. Not a single thing made sense, just that the mirror was an enemy. An enemy which showed an image that I didn't want accept. With a single punch thrown at it the mirror was in shards and the pain in my knuckles were a reminder.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself and when my mind was in control I went and took a cold shower. letting the shampoo clean my oily hair and soap wash away all the dirt that I felt. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was red and I felt a little burning on my arms from where the water hit and a pink streak flowed down. blood.

it was just a small scratch, barely noticeable, but it was enough to keep me focused.

with a new resolve I got dressed in a hoodie and jeans and made my way out, my father still hadn't left and looked a little surprised when I took my bike keys.

"you're going out ?" he asked as I slung my bag across my shoulder.

I nodded my head and checked don't wallet to see if I still had some cash left. A last note if 100 rupees along with some 10 and 20 over it. considering I was taking my bike, I wouldn't need much more anyway, besides I wasn't gonna stay long. I checked if my driving license was there and started wearing my shoes.

"thought I might as well talk to the HOD. let's see if I can do anything to save your money."

He seemed speechless as I stood up and just before I was out of the door he stopped me.

"listen," he said "just act contrite. give them down shit about you being sick, with the way you look you can pull that off. And take the hospital receipt with you."

I agree at him in disbelief as he rushed and bright my hospital file which I put in my bag.

"you sure you're my father? " I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"just get lost" he murmured and was back in his seat.