Safar 21, 1448 AH

Let the torture games begin.

I’m in Pune. It’s freezing here. It was scorching in Nagpur.

See the torture part yet?

With doubled bedsheet as my bed on the floor, I can feel the cold seep through the bedsheet, through my clothes and into the bones. In a moment of good sense, I had packed two pairs of socks. And my brother has his woolen cap. That helped me survive till 3 PM. Thankfully, when we went out for lunch, the body temperature improved a little, but then it rained on the way back.

I’m in my own flat, but it feels like I’m a refugee. You see the torture yet? I’m away from home. That’s the torture, geddit? Dua kijiye.

NOTE: This is part of “write one post every day for a year” challenge.

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Shabana Mukhtar