It was exactly five days since the lockdown was lifted, that my life was struck with a terrible emergency. I ran out of bras. Before the pandemic hit my country, it will be fair to say that I had a shortage but I didn’t care about it because I could get them any day I want, right?. What’s the hurry, I thought, and then suddenly out of nowhere the country was under complete lockdown. I somehow managed during lockdown but not it was time for bra shopping.

 I am a socially awkward twenty-year-old who still needs her mother to buy her lingerie. I told my mother about the emergency and she nodded her head as if in deep thought. “Buy them online,” she said. “I will not go out, I don’t trust my immune system. What if I catch the virus?” she said. “But maa-“ I said, “No it's too risky” she interrupted.

Online bra shopping it is then, but my only concern is the amount of time it will take to deliver because it was an emergency. I went to an online lingerie shopping app and was astonished to see the prices. “Baap re!” ( oh my god) I said and decided to check the price range on Amazon. It had decently priced bras, there were many patterns and colors available. I never cared about that before. I just looked for a bra that is not visible under my white college kurta. If it is ever slightly visible, I am sure to be a subject of weird expressions or whispers in my ears from fellow females or a whistle from some highly educated and well-mannered young man on the road. But now since I didn't have to face any gentlemen of M.G. road and the only other female around me was my mother and most importantly there was no need to wear that white kurta, I can think about bra patterns.

Online bra shopping with patterns and colors it is then.

After half an hour of answering myself questions like,

Plunging neck or full cover?

Wired or non- wired or lightly wired?

Padded or non-padded?

Flower pattern or stripped?

What colors?

Thick/thin straps or no straps or maybe transparent straps?

How about a sports bra?

I finally put four bras in my cart, and then to my horror, I found out that they will be delivered after a week. A full week with seven days. There was no way my two miserable bras are going to survive another weak.

“Oh boy” I let out a sigh.

Offline bra shopping it is then.

Just a reminder that I am a twenty-year-old socially awkward girl who needs her mother (who doesn’t trust her immune system) to buy lingerie. I needed a plan, a plan ensuring my safety from the virus, and also buying a bra.

Sanitizer, Check.                                                                                                     Mask, Check.                                                                                                      Gloves, Check.                                                                                                      Name of a shop with a female vendor,

Check.

“Maa are you sure that shop has a female vendor?” I was probably asking her for the fifth time.

“Yes,” said the woman who doesn’t trust her immune system.

“Don’t forget to buy potatoes” she reminded me.

After kick-starting my scooty, my mission began. The handle of my scooty wobbled initially but I gained control after a few moments. After almost four months I felt the outdoor wind touching my face, it felt almost magical. Corona. My mind alerted, and soon the magic turned into itchiness, and the desire to scratch my nose started to overpower me.

No Tina, Control.

I tried to distract myself and looked around. The streets weren’t as crowded, there was minimum honking and the entire atmosphere seemed to be too mundane like a spark was lost. As I reached the Chungi Bazaar I found that the shop with a female vendor was closed. “Shit,” I said.

Mission in danger, a mechanical voice said in my head.

I looked around and found that in the opposite direction, on the other side of the lane was a shop name “ SHARMA JI LADIES CORNER” It had a male vendor, but I was sure that must have a female helper.

Sharma Ji ladies corner with a male vendor it is then.

As I parked my scooty on the roadside I glanced inside the shop, there were three customers in that tiny shop. One middle-aged woman covering her face with the loose end of her saare, a little boy holder the woman’s hand. There was a girl about my age in the shop, her mask sat on her chin as she spoke to the vendor.

Corona.Danger!, my mind alerted. I decided to wait until the shop got empty. After ten minutes of waiting outside, I finally saw the three of them leaving. I went inside the shop and saw the vendor, he was not more than twenty-five which made it even more embarrassing.

“What would you like to buy didi?” he said. Really! Didi!

“Umm..” I said looking around “Wo… ba.. nail paint, blue nail paint.” I said.

He turned around and picked a box full of nail paints. I picked two colors, neither of them was blue.

“Anything else,” he asked, I looked at his face he wasn’t wearing a mask, I moved two steps backward slowly making sure he doesn’t notice. “Yes umm.. do you have um.. hair dye,” I said, why can't you simply ask for a freaking bra. I let out a sigh and said “Bra bhi dedo” so quickly that the words overlapped each other. No please don’t ask me to repeat.

 “Size?” he said simply and effortlessly. My cheeks gained some color, thank god I was wearing a mask.

“36,” I said.

“B?” he said scrutinizing my breast. I nodded.

He went to the end of his shop, stood up on a chair, and picked up a box from the topmost shelf. In doing so dust fell and that’s when the most dreaded thing of the entire mission happened a big fat sneeze. I looked at him suspicion filling my eyes and he came towards me with the box full of bras. I saw a sanitizer on the counter and instinctively held it but so did he, our hands touched slightly.

Corona, danger. My stupid mind alerted.

“Go ahead,” he said.

I picked four bras, two of them white and the other two in the shade of almond. I didn't care if they had a plunging neckline or an underwire. I paid him and left.

Mission successful, a mechanical voice in my head said.

“Did you bring potatoes?” my mother asked as I reached home probably without the virus.

“Oh boy” I replied.

By: A twenty-year-old socially awkward girl.