The sound of the heavy storm and the rain splattering against the window made it impossible to sleep. The power had gone out, so I lit a candle and lay on the mattress, watching its flame flicker. The candle’s life startled me, it felt too much like mine, slowly melting away just to give light to others. Maybe one day I really will become a poet with the way my mind spins metaphors. Life teaches its lessons in the bitterest ways.
I unlocked my phone to read Wattpad novels, but of course, there was no signal. The loneliness pressed against me, cold and suffocating. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would rescue me.
By morning, sunlight poured through the window, but the storm had left its scars behind. A big tree nearby had fallen, and the electricity still wasn’t restored. I swept the fallen leaves to help the house owner, and she thanked me warmly. Then I got ready, draped my saree quickly, and stepped outside, locking the door behind me.
So much had changed in the year since I last met my parents. New roads, the house owner’s daughter got married, new staff joined the restaurant, and I had read at least a hundred novels in the past 365 days. Everything changed except my life. Only my appearance had changed, and not for the better. I looked like someone just discharged from the hospital.
I had fallen sick twice with no one to take care of me. Those days were the worst….. painful, lonely, and frightening. I worked half-days just to afford food and went to the government hospital because I couldn’t spend money on myself. I hadn’t bought a single dress since last year. Festivals passed like ordinary days, with no family beside me, I worked every one of them and accepted the bonus without complaint.
I managed to pay Akash one lakh, which covered two semesters of fees and other expenses. I never missed sending money to my mother, even though I didn’t speak to her. Akash would send updates sometimes. My father had fallen very sick and had been taken to a private hospital more than once.
The security guard was clearing rainwater in front of the restaurant and greeted me with a smile. I entered through the back door, changed into my uniform quickly, and began my work. I wished the manager would increase my salary, but I was too shy to ask. This place had given me a sense of comfort, a refuge, and I didn’t want to lose it for any reason.
So I kept working, quietly, hoping life would change someday.
I felt a strange yet familiar knot in my abdomen and realized it was the start of my monthly cycle. I asked one of the staff to watch over my table and hurried to pick a pad from my bag before rushing into the washroom. My body was already weak and dizzy, and now this… I knew the day was going to be hell.
I cursed my fate as a slow tear slipped down, thinking of the pain I’d have to endure while standing and working. I washed my face, took a deep breath, and walked out, deciding that I would leave by 9:30 or at least by 6 no matter what.
But as time passed, the cramps worsened, and the ache in my legs and thighs grew heavier, making every step feel like a battle.
By 5 in the evening, my legs finally gave up. I couldn’t stand anymore. I leaned against the counter for support, and Shanthi sister nudged me, signaling toward the manager’s desk.
I turned my head and saw him watching me. Immediately, I straightened up and forced a smile. I collected the food order from the kitchen, and returned to serve the customer as if nothing was wrong.
By 6:30, I gathered the courage to inform the manager that I needed to leave early. He nodded but didn’t say a word.
” Was he thinking I was too weak to manage my work? What if he fired me? Oh God, what would I do then? “, the fear crawled through my chest as I walked out and got into the share auto.
I reached home, quickly changed out of my uniform, and lay down on the mattress after swallowing a sleeping pill. I need to sleep to keep myself sane tomorrow.
I woke up to my alarm, but I could barely open my eyes. My whole body felt like it was burning, and I was shivering uncontrollably. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed back onto the mattress as tears rolled down my cheeks.
I was burning with fever, and the cramps were merciless. The more I cried, the more drained I felt. Somehow, I dragged myself to the shelf, took a paracetamol and lay back down.
With trembling hands, I picked up my mobile and called the manager, fear tightening my throat. I greeted him softly and told him I was unwell. I heard him sigh, and my heart stopped for a second… terrified he might fire me.
“Take care, Meera,” he finally said before ending the call.
Relief hit me, but the fear didn’t disappear. I couldn’t afford to lose this job. Without it, I would be completely doomed.
I slept the entire day, but even then I couldn’t move my body. The shivering only grew worse. When I finally checked the time, it was already 8:30. Wrapping a shawl tightly around myself, I forced my trembling legs to carry me outside. Step by step, I reached the main road, took an auto, and went to the nearby hospital.
I waited for my turn, trying not to collapse. The doctor examined me and frowned.
“You’re extremely weak and dehydrated. You need proper food and, more importantly, rest. If you continue like this, your body will break down. You’ll need to stay the night, we must monitor your fever. Call someone from your family to stay with you,” he said gently.
“I have no one. I’m all alone,” I whispered.
The doctor nodded with quiet understanding and instructed the nurse to admit me to their small two-bed clinic room. The nurse helped me lie down, connected the IV line, and said, “I’m on duty tonight. Try to rest.”
The injection pulled me into a heavy sleep, and I woke only the next morning, still feverish but slightly better.
Around nine, the doctor returned, checked me again, and handed me a new set of medicines.
“If your fever doesn’t drop by evening, we’ll run a blood test, Meera,” he said before leaving.
“You need to eat before taking these,” the nurse reminded me. I ordered food, but everything tasted bitter against my fevered tongue. She left, and the next-shift nurse arrived, she smiled kindly, but I could see the pity in her eyes. She gave me an injection and medicines that lulled me into another round of sleep.
By lunchtime, I woke to see Shanthi sister standing beside me. Shock hit me.
“I called you when you didn’t show up, and the nurse picked up. Why didn’t you call me, Meera?” she said, worry sharp in her voice.
“I didn’t want to burden you. Manager already thinks I take too many permissions. I didn’t want him to feel the same about you.” I murmured and she shook her head firmly.
“I told him you were admitted. He said you should rest well and come back only when you feel better.” she said and relief washed over me, and gratitude filled my heart.
Shanthi sister stayed with me for nearly an hour, fussing over me like an elder sibling. But I insisted she return to work. The last thing I wanted was for her to get into trouble because of me.
I remained in the hospital for two more days, and when I was finally discharged, I returned home slowly. The house owner saw me at the gate and her eyes softened with pity. It was clear Shanthi sister had informed her about my condition. I thanked the old lady for her kindness and stepped inside.
The room felt cold and lifeless after being away, so I cleaned it first, swept the floor, and set a pot on the stove to make porridge. A warm bath helped loosen the ache in my bones. I ate slowly, took my medicines, and lay down on the mattress.
It had been three days. Three long, lonely days. I missed my man, the hero inside the Wattpad stories who lived in my mind like a secret comfort.
I opened the app, and as soon as the chapter loaded, I felt him….behind me like he always did in my thoughts.
“I missed you, Meera, you need to take care of yourself.” he murmured in a gentle and warm voice and I nodded unconsciously.
“I’m serious, Meera. Imagine what will happen if you don’t take care of your health. You won’t be able to work. The manager might fire you. And what will you do then? You need to be healthy to survive… to dream… to live.” he said and his words felt brutally true.
He was right, I did need to take care of myself. I had to be healthy if I wanted to earn, survive, or move forward in life.
Maybe… maybe I should start spending a little on myself. Maybe I deserved that much.
With that thought warming me more than the blanket, I went back to reading my novel, letting the comfort of fictional love fill the empty corners of my heart.
I reached the restaurant on time, adjusting the pleats of my saree nervously as I approached the manager.
“Sorry, sir… I wasn’t well at all. I had to be hospitalized for two days. But I won’t take any more leave or permissions from now on,” I said quickly, afraid he might be angry.
He exhaled slowly, looking at me with a mix of concern and responsibility.
“Meera, I know your situation. I know how much this job means to you, but you must understand that if your health gets worse and someone reports that you’re working more than 12 hours a day, it’ll become a problem for the restaurant too.” he said gently and I swallowed hard and my heart sunk.
“Actually… we were planning to increase your salary, but for now, we’ve thought of another solution. I’ll increase your salary by ₹1000, but you must go back to working only 12 hours like before. After a few months, we’ll consider a proper increment.” he said and I stood there, stunned.
” God… I missed my increment just because I fell sick? One full year of hard work… gone just like that…” I thought and nodded with a forced a smile.
“Okay, sir. But… I will still work on my half-days too,” I added softly and he gave a nod of approval.
” Thank God… at least he didn’t refuse that “, I thought, and headed back to my work, swallowing the disappointment burning in my chest.
I counted every single rupee I’d earned in tips, anxiety tightening my chest. Rubbing my forehead in frustration.
“I just have to manage… somehow.”
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A/N
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