Are you there?

It has been raining outside. I've been working more than 14 hours everyday for the past week. I come back home to myself. Some days, there's no dinner. I can afford an expensive meal, but it's difficult to eat alone.

I dread weekends, they're lonelier than weekdays. This is a new city for me. I don't know many people. I've tried stepping out, falling back to the books happens most often.

At work, it's new. I'm learning how to work. This is my first job. I wish they had told me what works with whom. I'm still finding my place in the space. Most often, days are spent alone in front of a computer with two conversations. Hi, can you please do that? Thank you.

Tonight is probably the most difficult night. Lying alone on a big bed, in a beautiful room with everything I always wished for. Everyday I am getting closer to my dreams. I see me stepping ahead. But I don't have many friends left. Some left, they changed when my circumstances changed. Some stayed, but we fell apart into different worlds. I used to tell myself to remember how to make friends when i was 7. I would tell me to say Hi, ask them how they were? What they liked? And suddenly we had so much to talk about. At 23.25 when I was leaving work today waiting for my cab, I said Hi. We talked about things we didn't like, including working late and not having a life. Meanwhile, we were on our phones, in our own worlds, miles apart.

My boyfriend lives far away, we always know what's going on in our lives. Sometimes I feel we have been more closer through our phones, than in person.

As this sleepless night keeps me away, I think about thoughts I had this morning. I took an auto-rickshaw to get to the train station. The road was flooded with men and women driving for work. In the corner of the lane, I saw two women standing with plates in their hands. One had some things she must have offered in the temple. It looked like those flat breads of sugar my mother used to make. Every Sunday morning was about her temple visit and the smell of those breads being cooked in butter. More than those breads on the plate, that lady's arms reminded me of my mother's arms. It's strange what rainy nights can do to us.