ON PAROLE

I gulp down the mug of coffee I had made myself, relishing the taste of powdered milk, bottled water (boiled in a kettle), two sachets of Nescafe coffee and sugar packets I lost count of. The caffeine hits the right spot (in my brain?) and I smile in response. My phone, still lying face down on the duvet from when I had thrown it in happiness (a BTS member had posted something on Twitter), buzzes. I pick it up and accept my mother’s video call. ‘Hey. Last day!’ Relief washes over her face, and I think part of the reason is that she hasn’t seen me upbeat about anything since I arrived here. ‘Are you done packing? Did you lock the suitcases yet? Don’t forget the keys. Check all drawers before you leave.’ I nod, having already done everything she asked me to.

I got up earlier than usual today and skipped my way to breakfast, which was much easier now that I was not four floors up - five days of consistent requests resulted in me being shifted to a ground floor room. I am still not accustomed to demanding something for myself, but this was a start. I greeted the staff at the hotel next door chirpily and served myself the same breakfast I had been having for the past nine days. The scrambled eggs finally tasted of something other than salt and pepper (in a good way), and the apple juice accompanying the food was equal parts sweet and tangy. After returning to my room, I had taken a quick shower, packed all my things and spent the rest of the morning scrolling through social media, except this time it wasn’t an escape.

‘It is 11:30, and I have to check out by 12 noon. But my move-in slot at the accommodation is 3:00, so I’ll wander around outside until around 2:30. It is not too far from here, so it shouldn’t take long. I’ll book an Uber to go. How are you? Any class today?’

‘It ended ten minutes back. Is your phone adequately charged? I don’t want it dying on you when you are out exploring. You don’t know the place at all. What if you get lost?’

‘It would be uncharacteristic of me to not lose my way. What? Don’t raise your eyebrows like that. I’ll be careful. You know I did karate lessons in Year 8.’

‘You were quite bad at it, weren’t you? Anyway, please keep me updated. It will be a long day, so don’t tire yourself out.’

We say our goodbyes, and I scour the entire room (which translates to walking four steps forward and around, before the walls greet me) for any belonging I may have left behind. I put my laptop into my backpack and start to wheel out the trolley bags into the corridor. A lady at the reception completes the check-out formalities and takes the key-card from me. Leaving my luggage in their inner storage room, I go to the park in front of the hotel for a walk.

The park is brimming with families basking in the warmth of the sunny Saturday afternoon. A few young-ish men are playing table tennis and laughing at something one of them said. Older gentlemen are sitting on the benches, talking amongst themselves solemnly. I see a toddler running in my direction and sidestep onto the grass to give her space to go by, endeared by the carefree expression on her face. There are puppies lying under the tree that stands in the middle of the park, their owners gushing over how adorable they look. I take a few laps of the place, walking slowly on the running track, trying to step exactly onto the bricks and not touch the edges with my shoes. The fresh air is relieving, and I breathe it in rapidly, after being deprived of it for days.

After a while, I find myself parked on a wooden bench, talking to my best friend. Neither of us is used to being in different time zones, and I catch her when she is about to have her evening snack. We talk for over an hour, and by the time I disconnect the call, it is already half 2. I try to book a cab, a sense of déjà vu washing over me. Like before, I am not able to, and have to go the nearest intersection to get a black cab. The cab driver and the hotel staff laugh about the amount of luggage I have, and I try to smile despite the annoyance I feel. I get it, it is a lot. But why do you have to shame me for it? What do you know about my situation, anyway? I check my wallet for cash, because I need to mentally prepare myself to pay a lot of money for a short distance, and when I give the driver the go-ahead, he starts to drive. 

I enter a part of London I had not seen during my journey from the airport to the hotel and based on the number of people out and about and the number of stores I deduce it is the main part of the city. More central than Paddington. I pass by what I think is Hyde Park, according to Google Maps, its boundary wall never seeming to end. Is it really as big as mentioned in books? I should go there once I’ve settled in. The map shows that we are about to cross over a body of water. River Thames? Isn’t this where Three Men in a Boat is set? We drive down a grey concrete bridge, and as we are getting off it, I see a ‘Waterloo Bridge’ sign marking its entrance/exit. We are in Waterloo? Ah, that is where my accommodation is. The driver turns into a narrower street, and after a few more rights and lefts, he pulls up in front of a building, where a large iron gate is propped open, and luggage trolleys are scattered about, being pushed around by students. I see Student Ambassador written across the back of the red t-shirt they are wearing, and I figure they must be volunteers who are helping new students move in.

Standing at the entrance, with the luggage the driver had unloaded, I feel a little hesitant to go inside. Do I talk to someone, or do I just wheel everything inside? Worried I am blocking the way, I move to side, when a girl approaches me. ‘Hi! Welcome to Stamford Street Apartments. I see you have just arrived. I’ll take you to the move-in desk. Follow me.’