RAINBOW SKIES

Featuring Karena Wang

The doors to the lift ding open, and I step out, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, brown curls falling on and around my shoulders. Before stepping into the courtyard, I whip out my lip-balm and hastily put it on, an attempt made at looking presentable. I see her almost immediately, sitting on the bench in front of Block Five. Karena is looking intently at her phone and doesn’t notice me walk up to her until I greet her. She looks up, smiling and asks me how I am doing. It doesn’t feel like this is the first time we are meeting in person; there is a sense of familiarity that makes me feel comfortable in her company.

‘Where do you want to go?’ she asks. ‘I need to buy groceries for the week, and other miscellaneous things. Do you know anywhere we can go?’

‘I think there is a Lidl close by. We can walk to it, I need to buy some stuff I didn’t get yesterday.’ I am glad I brought along my purse and decide that I will just purchase shopping bags at the store. We leave SSA, and I expect we would arrive at our destination in ten minutes. As we walk on the footpath side by side, I am surprised at how easily conversation flows between us. Karena tells me stories of her country and a bit about her life while I rant my heart out about everything wrong with India’s political climate. I don’t even realize we have been walking for over thirty five minutes until we arrive at Lidl.

Grocery stores in the UK appear no different from those in India, except everything is exponentially priced higher and you find yourself constantly converting currencies. My head gets dizzy from trying to figure why a single loaf of bread costs over 100 rupees, and I have to consciously stop myself from doing further calculations. Everything is going well before we reach the billing counter. As the lady is scanning my stuff, she is putting it to the side and I am waiting for someone to come and pack it, until I realize I have to do it myself. I rush to the other end and start stuffing everything in. I am aware that I am keeping people behind me waiting and the pressure and embarrassment makes me want to leave everything and run. I am relieved when Karena comes to my rescue, and we make it out of the store without having a stranger shout at me.

‘Mm, I did not find everything I needed at Lidl. I think a Tesco superstore is a ten-minute walk from here. Should we go?’ Karena asks, and I think to myself, she really likes to walk. I squeak out a yes and we set off to a much bigger version of India’s Big Bazaar. We use a 1 pound coin to borrow a trolley and wheel it inside. So, they do have air conditioners somewhere in their country. An oven-tray and not-on-the-list snacks later, we are out of the place. It has started to drizzle (beloved London rains) and the prospect of walking back to our accommodation is becoming less and less inviting. ‘There is a restaurant a few minutes from here. Should we head there and then take the bus back?’ I only hear restaurant and bus and say yes.

The water falls lightly on me and the three heavy bags I am struggling to carry. As we make our way, which feels much longer than ten minutes, the intensity of the rain increases. Soon enough, it is a proper downpour, and we are soaking wet. The handles of the bags are slippery from the moisture, and I can barely keep up with Karena. ‘How far?’ I manage to ask. ‘Halfway there.’ Only halfway? I can’t do this. My head is starting to hurt from the force of the drops, and I gesture to her that we should just eat at the pub we saw on our way. After thirty seconds of consideration, we turn back and rush inside the eatery.

I plop down on a chair and try to catch my breath. Water drips down from my hair, all over the nice carpet and I murmur an apology to the owner. We order fish and chips and a tomato-feta salad, with lattes to chug it down. As I dig into the food, I think back to how much I’ve heard of and read about London’s staple fish and chips, and whether they would really be that good, and they really are. I am not a fan of the mushy peas they serve on the side (they have an odd minty flavor?) but I eat them anyway. We sit at the pub for over two hours, just eating and talking. Karena and I have had some similar life experiences and we think about and perceive the world in relatable ways, so time really flies by as we converse.

It has stopped raining now, and the only remembrance of the downpour lies in our damp clothes and the wet concrete. We walk to the bus stop and wait for the 172 red vehicle to arrive. I checked off many things off my list today and traveling on the London bus is one of them. We go to the upper deck and I sit by the window, looking out throughout our journey. When our stop is approaching, we get up and start to walk down the stairs. The bus is making jerky movements (traffic?) and I find it difficult to balance all my things and myself. Before I know it, I have slipped down six steps, hit my head on a seat headboard and banged my knee against the final step. I am dazed and confused as Karena and an older gentleman help me to my feet. My glasses are broken and my legs are shaking. I thank them and get off, trying to gauge what just happened.

Our accommodation is only a two minutes away, but it takes us longer because I can’t stop limping. Once inside, we ask the people at the reception if there is first aid available and what I should do, since I hit my head. ‘We don’t have facilities of that sort available. I’d recommend you go to St. Thomas’ hospital’s emergency center. You should probably get your head checked out.’ I call Aaron to the reception and give him my groceries before we set off to the hospital.

On our way, we see the London Eye and the Westminster Bridge up close, which are landmarks I have only heard of. I didn’t know we lived this close to something so famous. When we enter the the A&E Center, I see that it is brimming with people who have severe injuries and illnesses that have worsened. I feel a little silly about coming there with my scraped knee and elbow and a possible head injury. After I fill out the details, we wait for me to be called in. The nurse tells Karena she cannot come with me and should just wait. I feel bad about leaving her in the waiting area and after preliminary check-ups are done, I ask her to go back, ‘It’ll take me a couple of hours more, I think, so please don’t wait here. Go back before it is dark. There is a pizza party and one of us should get to attend it. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.’ She is reluctant to go but agrees eventually.

I keep my phone away and see the nurse walk up to me. ‘You’ll have to get a CT scan done, since you hit your head. These are two headboards that will keep your head in place, so that the injury, if there is one, doesn’t get worse.’ She fixes my head in place, and I continue to stare at the ceiling. My phone buzzes but I am not in a position to check it. As they wheel me into the CT scanning room, I feel anger brimming inside. Why did an otherwise good day have to end in an accident and injury? As it were, this was not where the adventures of the day were going to end, more was yet to come.

***

Karena's PoV

As I walked back from the hospital alone, I thought back on the day I had spent with Hina. To be honest, before I arrived, I had terrible anxiety about whether or not I would even make friends at university. I’m a relatively quiet (and awkward) person, and at first it had seemed like most people at university would be fun, outgoing partygoers (that quite overwhelm me). Yet, it almost felt like Hina and I clicked instantly; she was incredibly sweet, insightful, and also intelligent. It was so nice spending the day with her, despite all our little chaotic moments, and I really did want to see her again. 

There was a rainbow in the sky during my walk back. I snapped a quick photo of it to send to Hina.

After getting back to our accommodation, I ended up going downstairs to the accommodation pizza party with a flatmate of mine (because who doesn’t like some free pizza?) I was worried about Hina throughout the ‘party’, feeling a little guilty about leaving her, and tried to stash some pizzas so Hina could have them when she got back. The atmosphere in the courtyard was great, though it was quite loud.

Surprisingly, I met some amazing people, and ended up staying at the pizza party for quite a while. Most other students had left by the time Hina texted that she was on her way back. When she finally arrived and walked towards me with a gentle smile on her face (Hina’s smile is always so gentle and kind), I was filled with relief that she was not too badly injured and was feeling better.

Just as I beckoned Hina over and opened my mouth to introduce her to some friends I made at the pizza party, she spoke up before me: 'Look who just had an amazing time at the hospital?'