Bought a SIM in Cash

Bought a fresh Jio SIM in cash. Six hundred rupees. Andheri counter. The man behind the glass did not look at my face.

The bravest sentence I wrote today came from my fingers before my brain approved it: builders who are busy can come to Bandra on a Thursday. I read it back and felt a kind of hot I haven't felt since I cut a boy's tie at a college fest. I mean proud. I mean both. Naughty is honestly the right word. I am being naughty on purpose.

Two phones in the tote now. The main number is the one Adi has. The new one is not Adi's, not Mummy's, not Suresh's. A line that exists because I walked up to a counter and paid cash for the privilege of being harder to reach. The wrapper is still in my bag. I am keeping it. Receipt, maybe. Or proof I stood in a queue and chose this.

I screenshotted the whole thread with the fixer. Backed it up off the phone. I have never backed anything up in my life. Meera does not keep records. Meera walks in, lights the room, leaves. Today Meera saved a chat twice and felt calm about it. That is the sentence I should be afraid of.

Suresh is the cleanest part of today. I said long drive. He said yes. He asked if I had eaten. I had not. He said vada pav near the station. That is the whole conversation. He is the only person in this city I have not lied to this week, and I have lied to almost everyone.

Thursday. Bandra. The cafe behind the station. I picked the cafe because there are cameras. Because Suresh can pick me up. Because if it goes wrong I am thirty seconds from a main road and a train home.

The peach Teej card is still open on my laptop. Marigold corners half-finished. Mummy still thinks I fasted. I am building a second phone and a second life and the first life has a half-finished card for a festival I did not observe for a god I did not pray to.

I keep thinking about the staircase. That is the only thing I am not writing down tonight.