1.1 | Milkshakes For Sale

01 | caramel

⋆ ——————— sitara ⋮ ⋆

I RIPPED THE heating patch from its sheet and stuck it on my lower stomach. The warmth that flooded through me made me sag against the pillows with a sigh. I pulled the covers back onto me and closed my eyes. The current position I was in turned me temporarily ignorant to the pain but when I shifted just a bit, the pain flickered back in my stomach like a wave of shock. I groaned and decided that this was not going to do it.

I craved a milkshake. Preferably a large-sized serve of Caramel Carnival with an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup from Shake it Off. I just needed something to comfort me.

I tapped the mousepad of my laptop and 11:34 pm flashed above a picture of Hrithik Roshan and his starry blue eyes. My situation seemed beyond pathetic —a twenty-four year old woman, craving a milkshake at midnight because her period cramps wouldn't let her sleep. I wanted to cry.

If only I had a boyfriend who bought me chocolates and ice cream; smothered me with warm cuddles on the couch and kissed my forehead to make me forget the pain, and didn't mind watching soppy Malayalam movies with me.

If only I had a boyfriend at all.

Scratch that. If only I hadn't watched way too many K-dramas and TV shows to build these useless hopes. Shame on me.

I decided that sitting in bed wouldn't do it so I opened the door so slowly, a micro-inch at a time when it was 30-degrees ajar, because that was when the hinges usually let out a god-awful creak. Successfully done with opening the door just enough to let me out, I tip-toed out and followed the same slow-mo routine to shut the door back. I cringed at the short squeal it made and prayed Ma didn't hear the noise and march out outside to investigate.

It was not like I wasn't allowed to step out of the room after the lights were off or I was bound under other non-existent child curfews. It was because if they heard me, I knew exactly what would happen. My parents will hold me in interrogation as to why I was outside, what I needed, why I needed it and most of the time, the discussion would be saved to be continued in the morning over coffee and news readings. My parents loved asking questions but I hated answering them. So, I made sure I never gave them an opportunity. Simple.

I trailed towards the fridge to check for milk in the hopes of making my own milkshake. And only when I saw the complete lack of it, I remembered Ma using all of it to make milk kovas for the new neighbours who had moved in today. She really had no other job nowadays.

Having already pictured the milkshake in my hands, my tongue begged for the taste of that caramel-chocolate duo.

I called Aisha.

"Arre yaar, I sent all the marketing data again. I spent three hours on it and if you tell me something is missing, I am going to bawl my eyes out," she said as soon as she picked up the call. There wasn't an ounce of tiredness in her voice. No wonder we call ourselves the nocturnals.

"Shut up, I'm not calling about that," I said, though the picture she created in my mind was tempting. Watching Aisha cry would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. "Do you know any milkshake shops open 24/7?"

"Yeah. Sunset Pier. Why do you ask?"

"Cravings," I answered and she gave me an ah of understanding. I thanked her and then spammed kisses on her Whatsapp when I checked that the shop was indeed open. And home delivery available— how sweet of them. Though it wasn't Shake it Off — my favorite milkshake place in the whole of Kawanpur (not that I had tasted all of them) —Sunset Pier was actually good. I was once abducted there by Vinaya where she broke the news of her first pregnancy. Now, Vinaya had three children.