Remembering

Today, I stopped. I realized I wanted to remember.

It's been snowing for days. It was good at first, but slowly I got weary of it. I complained about the inconveniences and the mountains on the ground. Icomplained about the gloominess and just prayed for it to end. In all that weariness, in that constant running for cover, I didn't notice.

Or maybe I did, but I am not sure if I noticed enough to commit it to memory.

So I could remember.

There is something special about the present, every present, that is very very easy to ignore. We often romanticize the past, however past is but an accumulation of presents. There's something unique, irresistible and irreplaceable about today - this place, this time, and this version of me.
I wanted to remember.

So I stopped walking, let my arms free and my eyes wander. I smelt, I felt and I tried hard for my mind to remember this moment. Later, I took a few pictures, but pictures preserve but a fraction of reality. I let the snow flakes fall freely all over me until my hair was white and my lips blue. I looked at the surroundings - both the legacy and the potential of this place I find myself at - and tried hard to fight the feeling of insignificance for my life. I lost the fight when I saw how each snowflake kissed the ground and melted away like it never mattered - it represented every moment of my life thus far, passing me by, not mattering.

It is hard to value every tiny little - but unique in its own right - individual snow flake when you stand in an ocean of five feet snow. But they have to matter because it is them - those individual snow flakes - that combine to form the ocean of snow. Every moment in our life matters, if only a little, because their corpses accumulate to become the person we become and the life we've lived.

At long, one tear escaped my cheek. I was trying so hard to remember, but I knew I was failing at it. But the tear froze, and soon became indistinguishable from the droplets freezing and falling all over me. That's when it hit me that my individual grief is trivial and indistinguishable.

If I want to matter, I need to move the snow.

Beauty

A silent, beautiful night had set upon the beautiful, lonely cottage. My escapade in the hills had just turned divine. For as far as one could see, there was not another soul visible. The sounds of the night, although clear and crisp, kept themselves to the background. There was a leopard somewhere in the trees on that hill, but he too chose to silently admire the peace for some time. There must have been some vehicles passing, every now and then, some 2500 ft below us, but up here one couldn't hear any of them. The fire in the fireplace, under an imposing, still-scary head of a hunted tiger, made an occasional noise, but mostly it provided luminescence and warmth to an otherwise lonely night.

Outside, the full, bright moon filled the valley. It hung like a halo on the top right of the frame, and the freshly bathed hills below gleamed at the treetops. There were a few lights strewn across the hills, but from here they felt like dew drops. One couldn't actually see the valley, blinded by the clouds that floated slightly under the peaks of the hills like a haze. The sky, above the clouds, was otherwise clear and strewn with thousands of stars. When was the last time I had seen so many stars? Cities are too busy soaking in the glitz of man-made stars and stares to seek cover under natural hoods. There were flowers near my cottage, I knew, that splattered color on the scenery in the day - right now, they contributed to a sweet fragrance, something that made me believe more and more this was just a dream. It probably was, for something this beautiful, this peaceful, this heavenly couldn't possibly exist on this earth. I shut my eyes, but it was still there when I reopened. I looked at the moon, and it seemed to smile at me. It also reminded me, painfully, how lonely this moment still was. How beauty has never managed to cure pain...

I shut my eyes again. There was a chilly nip in the air, but suddenly the warmth of an embrace had taken it away. Suddenly, I wasn't alone, and the moment felt complete. Music played in my head, and I felt content like I could die without regrets. I knew you weren't there, yet I knew you were. I knew you'd come to make me complete, just for that moment, to make me capture the beauty in fullness in my heart. And once the beauty made home inside me, I realized, while beauty doesn't cure pain, it certainly makes it easier to endure it.

PS Partly fictional, inspired by real-life, by this place. More on the vacation in other posts.

Mumbai

Today I realised what I love and miss most about Mumbai, or to be more correct, what it signifies in my life. It is a city I have grown to love, not as much as Delhi, and for not any of the same reasons, but in a very different way. For reasons that are at most 20% because of it being Mumbai and not XYZ city. But that's not the point. I love what being here, even for a day, makes me feel like. I am so much more alive today. And again, today was a good day...even for a "Mumbai day", so I am exaggerating (also I;ve been up for almost 24 hours now) but the fact is, this moment, this place, is making me feel much more alive than I've in some time now.

Perhaps the part I love the most is coming home at 3 am, because I want to or need to, without caring, without asking, and without being answerable to everyone. Walking back home talking to oneself, doing my own stuff, working hard, partying hard, living my own freaking life! Mumbai allows me to feel this way, like I'm living a longer, fuller life. Of course this isn't complete. There are things and people and feelings I want which I won't get here, and thus, netting off, I'd rather be who and where I am than this. 

But this feels amazing. Right about now. Thank you.

What do I want anyway?

There's something I want - rather, I think I want. In fact, I only want to know if I will get it, someday, possibly. And this want stays at the back of my mind all the time these days. I don't even know if I want it badly, just that I keep thinking about it. To make matters more complicated, every time I ask myself what will I do if I had it, or if I knew I'd get it, I basically freak. I don't think I know what I'll do if I get it, how I'll handle it, and whether I will want it anymore or not. I will probably learn to deal with it, but when I try to imagine I always conclude I am better off now without it than I would be if I had it. Life is much simpler. 

And yet, I keep wanting it. 

Am I screwed up, or just my wish-o-meter?

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I wasted many years of my life living pretty much in a hazy mental state of denial, self-loathing, and some random victim complex. I was not as fucked up as those words sound in English, but I was fucked up all right. Late last year I found a way out of the over-romanticised darkness. In the last few weeks, I found myself battling old familiar doubt and the new optimism seems to be winning. On my own. Reason I write this here is so that whenever future me reads these words, she remembers that it's possible to defeat darkness and she remembers that sometimes, she is better than she thinks she is. Give her a break, kiddo.

Confusion

First up, apologies for the few who have missed updates on this page the last 3 weeks or so. And apologies to everyone who is looking for a follow-up of the fairly confusing previous posts -I promise there's a story to tell, and I promise to complete the Camouflage drafts currently lying on blogger, on my phone and in my head. But not now, not today.

Today is the day to ramble and wonder without much purpose. This whole purpose and meaning quest is an overhyped one, methinks. "Be yourself and follow your dreams" is great to hear and probably great to do, but what do you do when you don't really know who you are and what your dream is. And since you're a confused, lost soul scampering about for some elusive meaning, and that's who you're also encouraged to be, there's bound to come a point where you go whatthehell. Read this for more. Anyway, what choice do we have sirji.

So anyway, my own wandering and questioning took me last month from consulting to investing. For a while it felt like nothing had changed. There I was, on a morning flight to Mumbai, talking about same old stuff with someone I've known for more than 6 years now. Cribbing about morning flights and airline service. Looking for the driver at the airport holding a placard of my name. Only this time, the company name was different. And since then, it has been starting from scratch all over again. Finding my place. Finding new people. Being judged. Finding comfort in my own skin. Trying. And wondering whether I like it. Wondering where I'd end up. Wondering how. 

Life makes me want to live in a limbo. 

It's too early to look for answers anyway. I'm only looking for questions. And hoping. 

Restless peace.

This is a year of quiet restlessness. So far. A year where things have been pretty damn good for pretty much everything, and yet have always come accompanied with a fidgety restless discontentment. This is a year where joy has come aplenty, with some grief, but mostly, a lot of detachment. A lot of not feeling strongly enough. A lot of happy calm at the surface. And restlessness. I don't know if this is permanent, transient or non-existent (only in my head!). And disturbingly, the next thought that comes to my mind is, in a very Ravi Shastri-kinda way, I have a feeling that something's got to give here.

Whatever that means.:)

I like wondering every now and then of change. The whats, whys and hows. I like to pick up a lens and see things, places, and most of all myself through it to understand just a little better. You can call it a hobby. Searching for analogies and metaphors is another. One of the changes in me in the last year or two I hate the most is how my words don't flow out of me as much anymore as they could. Writing used to be a lot more effortless, and cathartic to me. It wasn't good writing, but it was brilliant clearing for mess inside my head. It sorta takes away the impact of many good changes. I so badly want to write. I want to write my book. I want to write cricket. I want to write poetry and fiction. I want to dole out crap on the back of my notebook again - not mere doodles. But it doesn't come out. Not enough. What's wrong? I feel joy, lots of peaceful joy, but not soul-stirring teary-eyed happiness like I did, a few moments in life. Is there anything wrong?

Anyway, back to the restlessness. I wonder if I feel it more because I dont write about it enough. I wonder if  it is just quarter-life crisis. I wonder if it's just hormonal over-thinking :) But that's the sort of year it has been. Job satisfaction plummeting - the flaws in people so much more visible. Stress over not knowing the future was less than the confusion over my desire to not even try to know the future. And even now, disquietude. What am I doing with my life? Why have I never done enough crazy whimsical things like others? Am I too "safe"? Am I too boring? What will the new job be like? Am I deliberately not asking hard questions? Have I become too defensive, too non-confrontational. Am I scared of drama? Fatigued? Or is this drama still.

Why isn't peace enough?

And where the f**k are the words?

PS At least, I still have unanswered questions.

...and we're back

For anyone still reading, upfront sincere apologies for the vanishing act. Especially to those whose questioning comments and emails have been met with a puzzling silence. Yes, this is the longest I have stayed off the blog and that too without warning, but no, this is not a trend. Just something I have been doing, an experiment of sorts. Letting life come to me, pass through me and go by - without trying too hard to hold onto anything, without longing for anything present or not there, without thinking too much about it. And for the most part, I have been happier for it. Happier than I have been in a long time. 2011, as I wished in the last two posts, has been better so far. Not easier, but happier and better. Thank you.

Now that the disclaimer is in place and this blog has been prepped for a flood of posts in the next few days, short update on the latest headlines. Working out of Chennai these days with Germans, so expect some crib to follow :P Have been on the verge of a (relatively) big decision - quitting the job. Expect final outcomes in a day or two and more news, but for now I will say this - choosing between basically good alternatives that have long term (ok, medium term) implications on the rest of your life is a pretty hard task. :D


More soon. Much more.

Toofaan to aana hai, aakar chale jaana hai
Baadal hai yeh kuch pal ka, chhaakar dhal jaana hai
Parchhaaniyan reh jaati, reh jaati nishaani hai

Zindagi aur kuch bhi nahi, teri meri kahaani hai :-)

That kind of a year...

It was the middle of the decade when I started writing this blog, all of 18 years old, always believing myself to be older than what the years stated. It's been almost six years, and just like the life it was trying to transcribe in this public yet often too personal space, this blog has seen its shares of ups and downs. The flavors and the tones have kept changing with the season, but a true companion it has always been, especially in the lows of life. Even so, the dark and the melancholy have overwhelmed the struggling words on this pages in the last year, particularly the last few months. And still, much has remained unsaid and unwritten, only sometimes by choice. It has been that kind of a year.

As 2010 draws to an end, I sit back and wonder- and it is only now at the end of the frantic year that I have taken a much deserved break to unwind and just let myself be - how tough it has been and I should give myself some credit for pulling through it all in the end. Then again, there is no cause to act like a Tragedy Queen. More than anything else, the struggle has been in the mind, and to some extent between the mind and the heart, and continues to be so. Somewhere down the way, I completely forgot who I was, who I am  - till one day as I stared at the darkness of the  abyss I realized how lost I was. That was the beginning of the end of what had been until then, a journey of reactive living, constantly lowering self-esteem, endless pain and a desperate expectation of help that never came. 

Growing up and just coming to terms with life is a harsh process full of rough edges. The choices, the decisions and the constraints. The desire to fit in, the desire to belong, the desire to feel safe and protected. The search for roots, the search for the zenith. The kindness of strangers, the bitterness of relationships. Most of all, the weight of your expectations from yourself. And the constant judgment of what is right, what ought to be, and what is forgivable. The questions, the hopes and the disappointments. Would there be a respite, was there a safe place where one could hide from all of this, am I meant to keep fighting this alone, is there an end. The cold, lonely pillow that unleashes the devils in the night - on some nights it was warmed by tears, on others it was a hard dreamless seat of repressed energy and pricking pains. 

I'm not saying the process is over, or these edges have smoothened, or that I know any better to deal with them. All I am saying is I know they exist, I have survived them so far, and will continue to until it is over. Which it probably never will be, but it doesn't feel that scary any more. I think it is because the last year had more than its fair share of gloomy nights. When it hurt so much it possibly couldn't hurt any more. When tears didn't halt for hours, and also when tears simply froze away and were replaced by icy smiles. Also, I lost a lot of people. Some of those I think I did a favor to myself by losing. Some I grossly miss, and regret pushing them away/not keeping them closer. And for some I lost them in the sense I lost the "idea" of who I thought they were in my life, while they really were someone else. The idea remains an endearing void, the reality awaits full definitions. Those losses were, are, hard to deal with.  Some, I magically managed to repair though. Residues of pain, strong rage and hurt still remain from the darkness. There're still two days in the year - I hope it will take those along as it goes.

Anyhow, when it gets really low, it starts getting better because it can't get worse. And so, life has started hoping to look better again. Importantly, I have stopped waiting and started doing. By bits and pieces, the journey of unlearning self-destruction and discovering who I really am has started. This blog has been a mirror of my life for the last few years, and intertwined in the reflections of some of the words and the truth of my memories, I find clues and causes, clauses and closures. And there is a calm, of the kind that gives you strength even as struggles continue to surface, mind continues to battle the heart, opposing needs and wants tear up and the mayhem underneath sustains with renewed interest. Yeah, it feels alive.

There were the good parts, of course, to count my blessings.  I think by the time I moved out of Mumbai, I had accepted the city as my home, in some way, and it taught me a lot of things worth remembering. I have also now finally managed to find my comfort zone back at home here in Delhi - in seven years away I had quite forgotten my corners of the home. I made a few good friends with whom I shared a few memorable laughs, a few candid moments. I did well in what is my first job, and found much to learn about the world and about myself. There were a few moments of sheer bliss worth savoring around the year. Towards the end of the year, I finally broke the circle of depressive, reactive thinking and accepted some truths, some mistakes, some to-dos. I feel less lonely, even if I am just as alone. Baby steps, but they all count. Best of all, I survived and came out happier, no less.


There is plenty to do. Plenty to renew and rekindle. My friendship with words for one - they have choked somewhere and come out only in blurts and splutters without flowing.   The ability to connect with people in ways that mattered. The energy to learn and do well in work and in life. The freedom to let myself just be and dream again. To find love and hope. To find myself. I hope 2011 does not wither away in the burden of expectations. :)


Happy new year, everyone.

Emotional bandwidth

A mixed bag.

A load off the shoulders.

A job well done.

A day lived memorably.

And yet...a familiar numbness...twinges of pain, disappointment, joy and fatigue....and nothing.

Another big day. Another empty, stretched feeling at the end of it all.

Cute nothings

I found today in an oldddddd journal a very cute little entry which is simmering with confusion, anger and hurt of the 12 yr old variety over seat allocation in the classroom. I have been laughing like crazy ever since. For the life of me I can't remember the specifics other than the sketchy details in the journal, and I am marveling at how wonderful memory is - it automatically erases most of the ugly parts of day to day life, because all I really remember now of being 12 is the fun, the carefreeness of life and the little moments I cherished. Yes if I really think about it I remember the few people I used to dislike or fight with, and the struggle it *felt* like. But I do have to really think about it. More or less, it was the time when scoring 95+ was easy and also mattered :D Such a nerd I am. 

Writing journals is a useful, even if embarrassing habit. :-)

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On another note, yesterday we celebrated the first marriage anniversary of two very close friends. It is a scary thought - marriage + 1 yr also (are they old or am I? :-) ) but on the other hand it is no nice to see them happy. Here's wishing loads of happiness and good luck to all my other friends who have taken the plunge or are shortly going to in the next few months. 

And to everyone else, boys and girls you rock for not being insane! Please stay this way and not lose it :P :)

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We recently had a "women's get-together" kind of an event at office - with all the femalefolk present and discussions wandering from dieting, shopping, marriage and how it ruins your life, work-life balance, kids, dieting, shopping, hot men at BCG (yawn!), "embarrasing secrets", "fun facts", "hidden talents" and kiss/crush stories. And dieting. I missed part of the event towards the end, but apparently that is when one of the younger crowd i.e. another IIT associate went and asked one of the older women -" I am sorry but I just cant relate to any of the topics you are talking about (marriage, kids, work balance blah) is there something wrong with me? Am I not a woman?" 

Such a cutie!

Makeover

I'm bored of myself. I can't blame others for feeling this way - I have become boring and irritating. And fat and ugly. And careless - I lost a mobile phone and a wallet with all my cards in a space of two weeks. WTF.
I have become, mostly, somebody not-fun.
Why? How? I don't know.

But me no like. Me want change. Me need to change. Me need to chirp. Me need to smile. Me need to write less crap and more fun stuff. Me need friends. Me need love. Me needs to be lovable. Makeover time, people!!!!!!!

I'm thinking of going down the radar - MIA - for a few weeks and seeing what I can do. I need a fix-it.

I need ideas. Now. Help.

I didn't even realize

...when my life ended.

Or when it began, for that matter.

Idhar udhar ki baatein...wagerah wagerah -II

Hi again to dear diary
As I was saying last evening, all of these random nothings keep happening to life like it was a random nothing itself (is it?). We wonder and wonder, if there is something "funny" to be found in the mundane we normally ignore, and then we find it. Amusing to only the two of us I guess, the private joke nonetheless provides entertainment in what is otherwise just life as usual. As an aside, this life as usual business is really such a waste - every time someone says what's up these days, that's the only default, boring, true answer. Why is this the usual?

Anyhow, so we went to IIT Kanpur yesterday and had an okay event, I suppose. What a maggu campus it is, we wonder too. And then we try to drive to Lucknow at midnight, and get stuck in a miles long traffic jam caused by a truck breaking down in the middle of a single lane bridge over the Ganges. As nothing moved for almost an hour before improvising souls found ways to make the car jump over a foot high divider, we wondered in the dead of the night, if that wasn't the epitome of present day India. Where 24 hour channels go into outrageous hyperbole on anything and everything. Where governments struggle to comprehend the difference between national pride and national shame. And where futile corporate slaves like us get a hotel to serve us dinner at 230 AM. Life goes on, I suppose. As usual.

I think we need sleep.

Restless

Restless tonight
No sleep in sight
Waves of questions
rise and crash
Thoughts pop
Collide and dash
Meanings threaten
To disappear in a flash
Lightning, thunder
And then rains lash

Restless tonight
No sleep in sight
Fear reigns
In an empty night
Asks questions
Is the future bright?
Vulnerable, should I
Give in to the might
Or let destiny, distance
And my soul fight

Lightning. Thunder.
And then...

Of roads not traveled and places not seen

Two in three people I know would say they love traveling if I asked them - or maybe more. I would too, of course, if you asked me. Traveling is really fun, exciting, adventurous. From ancient travelers who wrote tales about lands and regimes they passed through, to the modern-day backpackers and travelogue-writers, their choice of lifestyle has that enigma, that excitement worth being jealous of.

Of course, I am a consultant - it's one of a few jobs where traveling is a part of profile, a requirement. What, when, where, how much - all depends on how lucky or unlucky you are with staffing. :) But the why is always a constant, 99% is for work, 1% for official recreation, which is also work under disguise :)

One could argue that work related travel is hardly travel, and correctly so. Of course there's no fun in waking up insanely early for a morning flight, battle random traffic mess,airport queues, flight delays and train crowds to get somewhere, prim and proper to meet a client at about the same time you get to office on another day. And zip through roads, hotels, airports to work late till night because of all the travel time "lost", and brave yourself for an encore the following day. No complaints, it's part of the job!

But that's exactly what it is - part of the job. It isn't exactly traveling, is it. I have been in eight or nine cities in the last couple of weeks as part of the job. Short field phase. But that wasn't travel. What did I see of those cities? What do I remember of those sights and sounds and smells?

The boyfriend just returned from a nine day vacation to Sikkim. It reminds me the last trip I took to anywhere was a two day trip to Lansdowne - 250 kms from Delhi - almost a year ago. Excluding an overnight getaway to Alibaug near Mumbai few months back. And before that, I cant remember anything till the Sweden exchange except IITK.

It reminds me how little I have traveled in my entire life. It would shock most of you, but if I died tonight, I'd have never seen Jaipur, Jodhpur, Agra (I was 2 when I was taken there - doesn't count), Goa, Shimla, Chennai, Kolkata, Pune .......And then there's the list of places that work has taken me in the past year - all comprising of work-filled stays of one night or less, and therefore not counting as travelled either - Bengaluru, Hyderabad, Ahmadabad, Kochi, Lucknow, Kanpur (been to IITK once before for Antaragni). Hell, it would be shorter to count places I have been to.

I admit I'm a loser. I know you're going to say, take a week off, pick your bags and go somewhere, anywhere. I know I want to do that - have always wanted to. And still haven't. Till a year back I never had the money to do that. I was in college, I was supposed to study, have fun within the campus confines, and make my pocket money last the month. I also didn't have the friends, for the most part, for company. And what would I say at home? Where am I going - why, with whom. Now I can manage the money, but the other two is still a problem.

I know I need to get up, grab a backpack, and just leave. The complications would probably wait till I return. Someday.

Anyone wanna join?

Because there's more to it than meets the eye, but whatever, doesn't matter.

There are few things more gruesome than a clash between an idea and a reality. Neither wins, both get ruined. We say a thousand things, we mean some of them, and even then, meanings change over time. People change over time. Expectations?, those too.

They say, "I understand", but do they? They promise otherwise, and they still do what the world does. Leave. Leave a void.
It's easy to be evil. You find explanations and excuses. You find reasons to be angry, but guilt doesn't recede, doesn't die.

Shall live with this as well. If it is fated, it better be for a good end.

Mad at the world, mad at myself. Mad at the inadequacies of words, mad at the incapability of self.
There is no right thing to say. There is no right thing to do.

There's no Ctrl+Z, there's no Escape. The truth be masked, the void be left alone, learn not to care, and move on. And hope for peace.

Theek hai, sometimes not having a choice is better than having too many. Sometimes not being cared for is better than care you cannot reciprocate.

Sometimes, being someone else is better than being yourself.
If only...

Adios.

On the count of super-meanness leading to self-sabotage...

...Guilty as charged.

Sometimes I am such a jerk.

Over rated

That's what being nice is.

Being humble, polite, considerate, sensitive, liberal, respectful. Not saying things you feel in the heat of the moment because they are mean, exaggerated and not fully true.

All of it, is simply over-rated.

Being who you should be, is over rated.

SO mad at myself.

UPDATE: Comments are back. Still mad at google.

Not so cheap thrills

This afternoon I was on a flight to Mumbai. Mid-air the aircraft started experiencing some air turbulence. As standard procedures, everyone was asked to return to their seats etc. and a lot of people started looking out of the window. The turbulence was both long and strong - a few people woke up, many spilt some coffee and everyone waited for the aircraft to pass.

I couldn't help but wonder, like every single time something like this happens, what would it feel like if the plane crashed. I wondered where the life jacket was that the long security drill at takeoff talks about. I wondered if people will scamper for life jackets and emergency exits (again, the long at takeoff speech came to my mind) I wondered, almost wished, that there be no time for that, and the aircraft just goes into a freefall and crashes.

I thought about what will follow. The imagined news headlines amused me. Maybe in 2-3 days when I don't show up they'd discover in office I was on that plane. Will they worry about the laptop and other BCG paraphernalia now lost? Isn't my company insurance double if one dies in an accident? What if I don't die and show up one week later? etc etc etc
It's a familiar train of thoughts. Similar to what may happen if I got the opportunity to be in a hijack, a bomb blast, a derailed train etc.

These things - fun, interesting - they just don't seem to pick me and happen to all those innocent people who don't want them to happen.

Life ain't fair.

The one where life feels utterly worthless to live in

*Crib Alert*

As time passes, I realize, I am liking life less and less.
Growing up is very confusing, very painful and increasingly lonely. Why the hell does anyone ever want to grow up?

Things were so much simpler when I was younger. And they just keep on getting worse - it's hardly worth complaining when I compare my life with a few other people around. Nonetheless, it's not worth it, this life.

Falling in love was so much simpler four years back than it is now. It used to be simple, joyous and strengthening - now it can make me feel weak and helpless, the same love. When did it become so powerful?
Deciding what to do in life was so much simpler. Limited options, enough time, and limited risk. One could just be good at what one chose to do. But now? What job? To study further or not? Where is the career headed? Where is the money gonna come from? My parents wanna know when do I plan to get married. Or why dont I want to stay in BCG till I make partner. Hell, I don't know where I am going to be next week.

Having friends was so much simpler. People just became friends, and stayed so. Now, there are colleagues, acquaintance, bosses, juniors, hangout gangs etc Old friends are as spread away and occupied in their lives as I am, many have simply moved on so far away from the lifestyle that afforded them the luxury of people like me that they're not even the same. Everything is so much more lonely around here.
Even family - they were around and wanted you to be around all the time. And then, somehow, in the struggle to gain some space and acceptance, suddenly there comes a point when my parents don't want me to take a transfer to Delhi office and shift here because Mumbai has better "career scope" and they're already used to this arrangement. And here I was fighting to get a transfer. I still don't know whether I am going to get it, but in Mumbai, where I don't like it alone, I am suddenly almost homeless with both my flatmates announcing they wanna move out asap and I certainly cant afford the rent alone, and back in Delhi, to be honest, what do I have to bring me back.
This when my job kills most of my waking hours and is making me travel all alone to random cities- airport to airport. And it's not as fun as it sounds.
All this is a mess, I know, with a hundred more complications, and I am supposed to decide all alone. Why the hell?

This life is getting lonely, confusing and too demanding. I'm out of energy.

I want out.