City Vox Popili – A Life in Rahul’s Day, Vaishali
As part of The Delhi Walla series asking citizens to “write down everything you did in one day.” Send yours in 400 words max to firstname.lastname@example.org
[Photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]
[By Rahul Sharma, a “quality analyst” in Vaishali, Ghaziabad.]
It is three in the night. My family is sleeping. I feel the many responsibilities weighing down my shoulders, but I carry this burden willingly.
Being a quality analyst in a Florida-based company, my works deals with product photography. Since the shift is adapted to the US time, the work-day begins in the evening at six. My office is this corner of my bedroom currently illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. The last few hours passed editing the photographs and engaging with the seniors on Teams. Reaching out for my box of kaju-badam, I glance towards the wife. She fell asleep reading a book. Daddy and mummy are sleeping in the next room, along with our son.
I am always at home, yet I feel distanced from the family. At night, when I am awake, they are sleeping. In the day, they are busy with their own schedules.
Yesterday morning I woke up at 8.30. The wife, who teaches Biology to 12th grade students, had left for her school two hours earlier. The son had left for his college. These days though my first priority on getting up is to make sure that daddy has taken all his medicines. Mummy also needs attention, she had her cataract operation some days ago. Over dal-chawal during the lunch, we three chatted about daddy’s childhood days in Mussoorie.
The wife and the son returned later in the afternoon. The son is at a vulnerable time of his life and I try to listen to whatever he has to tell.
But right now all is silent. It is 3.15am. I go out into the balcony, and look at the lights of the surrounding apartment complexes. I close my eyes. I think of the current challenges I am facing in life. But I also feel grateful for the love that makes up my world. I return to my desk.
It is 3.45am now. My day is ending. I log out.