Men's formal wear shopping!

My brother is currently writing his 12th public exam and I am also in my final year of my college which means double pressure on my parents to join us into a good college. As somewhat experienced into women's college environment for 3 years I knew what to expect and what not to expect from an educational institute. But my brother who is normally least bothered about anything in the world showed same attitude towards his studies. The choosing duty of his career path went to my parents who finalised it is computer engineering. My father with the help of his friend went to the engineering institution for admission where his son is studying. My brother also tagged along with them while I was at my college writing my final last semester exams.

It seems the college is very strict where they give an entry slip to go inside, complete security check, entry not allowed if the person is not wearing formals. Jeans, t-shirt and a list of things which are prohibited even for parents and visitors it seems. Whoa! Well colleges like that exist. So, my brother was not allowed to enter the campus as he was wearing jeans and waited in a room while my dad and his friend went inside the campus. They enquired about admission details, rules, regulations, and many more and ate chicken biryani while my brother the poor fellow who got stuck near the reception because of not wearing a formal wears. Again regarding admission for my brother my father planned to visit the campus tomorrow along with me, my mom and my brother to see the extravagant campus which treats people like refugees. Well hope it was not as horrible as my brother described it.

Today, we went for shopping to get formal wear for my brother. I was hesitant as I felt what I would do in a men's section while my brother is deciding which one to buy? But Indian parents are very talented and skilled at how to drag their children into things which are irrelevant. So, that's how I ended up at a tall building consisting seven floors at T.nagar for shopping. We went inside and saw too much crowd near the lift. So, we decided to climb the stairs. So many stairs and so little energy left in me; I got exhausted. Trust me Sunday evening at T.nagar for shopping that too in a store which offers low price rates means a pool of crowds. We went to men's section. As I said even if apocalypse occurs, my brother is least bothered. Likewise, he wasn't even bothered to know his garment preferences.

The sales person took a measuring tape and said a particular size while my dad was looking at himself in the mirror and blabbering to himself that he is becoming fat. Then, suddenly my dad added two more inches to the size mentioned by the salesman and laughed that my brother will also become fat like him in future. Well if it was me I would be showing embarrassed look up to the extent where I would have picked random some dress, purchased it and left the venue. But it was my brother he was cool as a cucumber. My dad suddenly got too excited and asked us to look into the shirt sizes he directed us to look upon. He also made it mandatory for us to select 2 shirts for my brother. I was already getting awkward vibes being in the men's garment section. To top the weirdness my parents were battling to prove that their selected shirt was the best. And me stuck there forced to pick 2 shirts of my own choice which I won't be wearing. Later, my brother picked three shirts from the provided options from us.

Whew! Finally can go home and enjoy my Sunday! Nope fate had another plan. My dad was like "Now let's go get your brother some pants." Hell! Selecting pants are pure hell! The formal pants section basically had the colour palette of black and white movies. And here I am stuck again forced to pick two pants which has no usage to me. I gave up and waited. My brother went to trial room and showed up the fitting of the pant to my dad while I was stuck up with my mom in men's pants section. My mom was explaining (criticizing) about the way our new tenants behaving, dad's financial loss, Chennai floods, politics, and many more topics which I dreaded hard not to know about. Yet who does our parent can talk to other than their beloved children.

Finally, the selection of formal wear got over and we purchased it. Now, they got remembered about buying a belt. (Face palm) They must have realized how I felt or I must have looked like a zombie they asked me to wait in a corner while they search and buy a perfect belt for my brother. I sat in a chair while they got vanished into the crowd who are on a shopping spree. A toddler was sitting beside me. The kid was too active she drooled, ran in circles and kept on hitting her head towards her mother's knee. It was kind of hilarious to watch. I missed the kid in me. The kid who used to be crazy, who cooked using torn newspaper pieces, who took a chalk piece and felt like Picasso, who took mom's dupatta and felt like a elite woman, who took a notepad and felt like supervisor, who took two drumsticks and felt like a musician, who thought the backdoor of the house was a secret pathway to spies, who was innocent, curious and enthusiastic in the name of passing time. After a while my dad said "Boo!" and I got a sudden stimuli. They arrived and at last we reached home. That's how my shopping experience for the day ended.

The First week of February - Struggles!

Feb 1, 2016: My mother and my aunt who came from U.S. to visit us both left from Chennai to visit my grandma (Their mom). My ammama (Mother's mom/ my grandma) lives in a town located in Andhra. I was told to look after the house. They left the house after I went to college. College went on as usual and I came back home. The silence was tremendous. I felt haunted vibe in my own house. No single nagging or scolding of my mom to be heard. The silence was ecstatic until I had to do the chores for the day that my mom did for past 21 years of her marriage.

I cleaned some vessels, saw T.V., heated milk and mixed Maltova (Cocoa flavoured malt powder) into it and drank it. The next challenge was to make rice. I have very poor cooking skills yet I took Food Science as my Bachelor degree. 

I remember my mom telling me to add 3 cups of water to 1 cup of rice and switch on the electric rice cooker. It sounded as an easy thing to do but not after I did I realised only with practice you will get properly cooked rice. I had to wash the rice, then put it into the electric rice cooker vessel, then add water. I was confused by which cup my mom referred to. Then I used the same cup I measured the rice with and started adding water and lost count of how many cups of water I added. So, I simply added till the rice is drowned with water.

I saw T.V., checked my mails, browsed for good colleges for my master’s degree and ended up tired. The cooked symbol was blinking on the device and I checked the status of my first rice cooking experience/ experiment. The rice was semi-cooked, the outer portion of the grain was cooked but the center part of the grain was hard. So, I added some more water and set the Electric Rice Cooker to cook it again. This time the rice was cooked nicely and edible to eat. Yippee!! But the quantity was too high to for dinner for me and my brother. Damn it. 

I microwave the chicken curry my mom kept in the fridge. I and my brother ate the rice with it, then with some curd and mango pickle. The night went on well, I made small pat on my back convincing myself there could be even other kind of disasters that could happen being home alone. Then we watched a Tamil dubbed Korean serial “Master’s sun”. It was a spooky serial. We both were scared to death while sleeping.

Feb 2, 2016: I woke up, brushed my teeth, heated the milk, drank it, and ate some biscuits, bathed, packed my bag and ready to go to college. Except my body and soul was ached to stay at home because I was too sleepy and tired from the nightmares. I told my brother good bye and walked towards the bus stop. College was same boring as hell. My classmates were practicing for aerobics and March past to represent the department at the sports day. They were arguing about the faults in their teammates. Head ache was at peak. I sat and helped my classmates with some tests for their research. Then college got over. I came home. My mom arrived. Even though secretly I was happy that she came at the same time the freedom to do whatever I want is gone. 

Feb 3, 2016: I went to college. I helped my friend with her protein analysis for her food sample in the laboratory. I told her to finish the test because I had some another class to attend at that time but she threw it off. All my efforts of preparing the reagents, sample, etc went into a drain. Then my class and some other departments together had a session on “Happy marriages”. It was more like a Stand up comedy than a counselling session on marriages. 

Feb 4, 2016: I had a proper class from my faculty after 2 full months. Finally it felt like classroom. Then, we had practical session to make nectar and ready to drink beverage from a fruit. After the last period my department calls me to meet them. There was this conference going to happen in Chennai for which I gave my name and paid money. The dumb thing was I gave my money on Feb 2 and Feb 3 also my friend did not cross check to inform me that I paid twice. I got an awesome scolding session from my department. Wow. What a crappy day! I am very bad at remembering whatever is related to numbers – time, money, date, schedules, counting, basically anything with math.

I felt weak, tired, sick, and more like a Character from Tim Burton’s movie. I walked on the road to reach my bus stop. Is it me or for everyone? When I felt tired and sad that particular day, I felt everyone is watching me. I got into a crowded bus, crushed and smashed every muscle of mine to squirm my way to get a proper spot to stand inside the bus. I went home and cried like anything. Life felt useless. My mom wasn’t of big help she even added more details to increase my sadness. I cried until my eyes got dried, reddened and burning as if my vitreous humor was replaced by fire. I took a kerchief wet it with tap water and kept it on my eye lids and slept for a while.

I am very poor at handling any scolding that is related to my mistakes. I felt horrible. I apologised to my friend who was also scolded for my fault. She told me “Don’t worry. Learn from the mistakes and Move on.”

Feb 5, 2016: Today I will be attending my college sports day event in the evening. So, I didn’t have college and all drama to handle in the morning. I had a good sleep and became less suicidal. My conscience said people had done far more mistakes than I did. I never murdered, cheated or spoiled anyone’s life. So, compared to some people’s mistakes I felt better. I hope we all get the strength to pass this test called “life”.