Untitled Chapter 1

Amy wakes up in the morning to the noise of the fluttering of the leaves and feels a sudden chill rushing into the room. She gets up from the bed, grumpy, because mornings are not her favourite time of the day and because she is still suffering from lack of sleep - its deadline time. However as she gets to the window and opens her eyes she intakes every breath of air inside her letting it consume her from within. Somehow it fills her with a passion she had long forgotten existed in her. It was the simple pleasures of life - air, which she had forgotten to feel when it touched against her face and body. How it felt to look outside on a crisp fall morning in October, no matter how dark or grey the sky was. As she draws the blinds up to close the window, she pauses for a moment to look at the people across the road, whose day has already begun. Men and women going to work with Ipods plugged into their ears and a cup of coffee in one hand, is the one sight she missed seeing the most during her 10 months stay back home in India two years ago. Children rushing to school with parents running behind them, people out on job interviews, students rushing on part time jobs, packed stations, buses, roads - oh how she missed it all.

The 10 minute morning scene gives her enough sense of accomplishment and purpose to get through the day. She decided to keep the window open, draw up the blinds and fill her 1 bedroom flat in Hammersmith with light.

As the water for her tea heated, she heads towards the living room adjoining the kitchen. The flat is cozy enough leaving no space or corner abandoned. It’s mostly done in shades of brown and forest green with a blend of modern and conventional interiors. The living room is a space filled with two book cabinets, across a very low fire mantle, which is mostly for just decoration because heaters solve the same purpose. A big low sofa lies on the exact opposite end with large throw cushions on either sides of it. The wall above the mantle piece is done in a light shade of green – on which rests a 42” LCD, which came free with the flat, a luxury Amy otherwise, would not have been able to afford. Her workstation is a small table, placed next to the fire place. It is a space enough for her to keep her laptop, reading glasses, the present book she is reading and a couple of cigarettes, which she insists help her think while she writes. A couple of photographs hang on the walls, mostly of places she’s traveled to. Photographs and memories close to her heart are only placed in her bedroom. She takes her laptop, her glasses and a cigarette and heads towards the sofa, placing everything on the coffee table in front of her. She lights her cigarette and opens her laptop.

Aashima Sharma - every time she logs in and sees this user name it floods her with such an intense rush of nostalgia which brings back the memories of days gone by as if it was yesterday in her hometown.

But this was her home now.

Her last night’s document is still open on which she was working till 3 am in the morning. Before she even opens to check if there’s any email from her editor complaining about deadlines, she logs onto the social networking site on which the whole world is now hooked on. As much as she continues to deny she still wanted to know what was happening with everyone, in London and especially back in India. She had not broken those ties intentionally, part of it was growing up, part of it was disappointment and mostly in everyone around her. But she knew it was not her position to blame because it was she who stopped trusting everyone. Everyone included some of her closest friends and family - whatever little she had left of most of it which included just her parents and a brother 8 years older than her who lived with his Italian wife in the UK too.

At 26, she was her own person.

The biggest reason for losing those connections was her own insecurity and over sensitivity mainly because she got hurt very easily by anybody , and she knew it.
Over the years she had mastered the art of keeping everything inside her because she thought if she did say anything it only hurt her back. She felt left out in almost everything everyone around her was doing. She started having differences of opinion with almost all the people around her. Part of it was also frustration because in her heart she knew she was not at all happy to be back home after completing her Masters in Literature at Brunel. Despite what she was going through inside, Amy was one person everyone knew was always smiling and happy. She had perfected the art of hiding over the years. She was the one playing agony aunt for most of her girlfriends when it was her who had suffered for 3 years over a cheating boyfriend and had almost stopped believing in men in general. She was almost always taken for being the uptight, progressive, independent, don’t give a damn attitude girl, whereas in her heart she knew she always gave a damn and perhaps too much of it, which was why she wanted to be her own person, do things she liked and make a living with what she loved, not be affected by broken promises and be around people who let her be herself. Despite being someone who loved having fun and people around her always she gradually and slowly managed to sift everyone only letting in one or two people who she was almost certain of. She took solace in her loneliness, somehow. Not having to care for anyone and for the ones she did, she gave it her whole heart and soul.

The page loaded with notifications of people’s constantly changing relationship statuses – from being single to engaged, engaged to married. This never stopped amusing her, because till date she only kept her profile as limited as possible on information she was giving out to the world. Those who mattered to her were updated on her life as she was on theirs and didn’t require them to login to know what was happening with her. She wondered if all those users really stopped to think for a moment how many people in the world they were giving access to about their lives?

As she put on her reading glasses and waited for her tea to brew, she emptied the beer cans which were still lying on the kitchen counter and an empty bottle of Gallo White Zinfandel into the trash. This was her favourite wine, cheap and cheerful.

That was a good night.

She took her tea in the same mug she had been using for the last 5 years; she had bought on one of her visits to London at the Disney store here in Hammersmith’s shopping center at the tube station.

She then headed toward the small bay window seat on the opposite side of the kitchen adjoining the end of the living room, her favourite place in the whole flat. It overlooked the backyard, which though not well tendered still gave enough of a view for her to unwind and feel at peace.

She heard the shower stop and after 10 minutes the bathroom door opened.

It was Aaron.

He was tall enough at 5 feet 10 inches, dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans and a grey stripped white shirt which was usual not tucked in. He was medium built - not very athletic though he liked a usual run in the park just as she did, with his dark brown hair still wet and dripping on the wooden floor below. She looked at him and thought white was definitely his colour complementing his even tanned brown skin.
“Good morning”, she smiled.
He saw her sitting in her usual place as he came toward the kitchen preparing a cup of coffee for him and replied “I hope I didn’t wake you up”

“Yeah I think I crashed at about 3, as far as I can remember, damn Emily and her deadlines trying to scare me every time”
He walked toward her with his cup in his hand, and hugged her from behind. Her slender figure, which was mostly lack of food, lack of time to prepare food and too much walking, fit perfectly against his body. He took the cigarette from her hand, “Isn’t it too early in the day for you? You’re not even drinking”

She tried to snatch it back, but he held it up “You’re the one who got me hooked onto these things! Besides they help me think”.
“Starting tomorrow, I’m quitting so are you”
“Yeah yeah whatever” she said as she took it back from him

It was already 8:15 and he was running late for work. He worked as a Junior Marketing Manager at one of the biggest publishing houses in London.

He held her close and kissed her lips softly “I’ll see you in the evening”. He grabbed his jacket and Ipod from the table next to the main door and let himself out.

“Have a good day and I’ll try and miss you” she said jokingly.

It was a mid week off for Amy from her part time job, working as a marketing consultant at a local college. The job gave her enough sense of duty and paid her bills when she was not writing.

She decided to spend sometime by herself and work on her story today.