The fateful day of 2nd June saw me fall prey to the one of many things that makes Bombay (I refuse to call it Mumbai) infamous. Potholes! (BMC, are you listening……err……reading…err….god damn! How are we supposed to get through to these guys?) Anyways, so while on my way to a job interview I twisted my leg while walking because I almost tripped on a goddamn pothole in the goddamn Dadar! However, being a smart lady that I am *Smiling proudly like a monkey*, I managed to not fall over the mangy dog nestling right next to the goddamn pothole and was surprised to find that my foot didn’t hurt even a bit. At this point, I am thinking to myself, “Wow, I am strong” and breaking into the same monkey smile and scaring away some of the kids on the roadside.
And so I trudged along and fared quite well in the interview feeling good about the nice day I had just spent, completely unaware of the peril awaiting me in the afternoon. I went for a delicious lunch of chicken biryani and sat with my legs folded in the hotel to savour the delicious delicacy. After I had swallowed the last morsel of the lunch and paid the bill (or should I be cool and say “check”?), I realised I could not put my foot back in my chappal! It had swollen to twice its size and would send shots of pain up and down the whole foot even if the air rustled around it.
Scenario: I am in Kurla at this moment and I live in Ulhasnagar, which is 1 and a half hour away and to add insult to injury (literally) my rest of the family is out of town and not expected back till night, so no chance of dear daddy and Swift coming to the rescue.
What happened next and how I got home must go down as miracle in the Pepsi Book of World Miracles, wherein I would like to thank only and only Hari who took upon my burden on himself (and I am not talking metaphorically here) and brought me home safe and sound.
Currently, I am sitting home and since this supposed sprain has turned out to be a hairline fracture, I will LITERALLY be sitting home for the coming 10 days.