It’s 9.09 at night.
I have been procrastinating on getting my car’s air pressure checked for a week. No more. I must drive to the petrol pump.
En route to the petrol pump, I figured we are not too far away from getting the petrol refilled. So I do that as well.
As the car stands, I have to wait for half-a-minute till the petrol waale bhaiya comes over and opens my petrol lid, as I sit calmly with my elbow and head dangling out of the car window (the callousness that you don’t get to do while driving).
“Premium waala, XX rupaye ka”, I tell him. They say the expensive petrol (which is ~₹8 per litre more than the normal) does not have ethanol added to it.
As the petrol is transferring containers, I think of where I came from. I was worried almost the whole day for something; and when I communicated that to a friend, things got sorted. How no one on my family ever believed in me, no matter how much they loved me. How they did not give me anything responsible to do, unless I got out and made my life and did more responsible things than them.
Such trivial things – the act of refilling and conversation with a friend, and how you realise life is indeed nothing more than tiny seemingly insignificant things.
Just keep walking, and keep doing the little things. We need nor change anything about our loved ones, we simply change how we show up to love ourselves.