i really hate the enigmatic experience of having a new local grocery store.
where the fuck is everything.
i instantly look like a complete idiot trying to figure it out. i feel like a child pretending to grocery shop at one of those science museums with fake plastic fruits and vegetables. the kind that gleam too hard.
this place in malleswaram is all confidence and no clarity.
the fruits are where i expect the soaps to be. the chocos are near the masalas. every aisle gives me the feeling that i have already missed an unspoken instruction.
so far:
- blueberries
- black grapes
- dish soap
- roasted peanuts
and absolutely no sense of direction.
i am standing near the dry fruits, trying to locate roasted cashews, when a guy suddenly recognizes me.
or thinks he does.
we had met once before at an outdoor music thing in bangalore. i had been standing alone for a while and he had kept asking if i was okay. i was okay. my face just has that problem. apparently it can suggest emotional collapse when i am actually just existing.
now here he is in malleswaram, standing between me and the roasted cashews, staring at me with the full intensity of a man trying to solve a minor mystery in public.
he keeps insisting he knows my face from somewhere. then he remembers: i was the guy who had looked “too serious” at that concert.
the too-serious guy.i wasn’t upset then and i am not upset now, but somehow this has become my category.
he asks if i’m on instagram. he says it loud enough that nearby aunties selecting avarekai are now part of this interaction too. there is no graceful answer to any of this, so i give him a fake handle and wait for the moment to die.
eventually he leaves. i get the roasted cashews. my body returns to me.
after that i keep seeing him in other aisles, which somehow makes the whole thing worse. why does this feel embarrassing? why should anyone witness me choosing soup?
but now that i’m here, i do want soup.
i’ve been craving tomato soup all week.