Lost Treasures

There have been a number of additions to my life over the last year. A brand new independent streak, a courage that is quite novel to me, friends and freedom. Which is awesome. Yet, I have been focusing so intently on certain aspects of my life (read obsessions: getting married and finding a life partner, in that order) that I barely noticed what’s gone missing.

Amma cooking dinner and having it ready when I return from work. The weekly expeditions to Secunderabad club. Visits to the temple across the street every other day, praying for a decent score in GMAT/CAT, admits to my dream schools and a wonderful job for that special someone in my life. And sarcasm and witty retorts.

In my view of myself, I was always this uncontrollably sarcastic person, an image reinforced by my then boyfriend. I wonder now if that was ever true or it was the end product of an ‘overly-in-love’ mind. Whatever the intensity of it may have been, I realized a few hours back that my sarcasm has really been on a long vacation for quite some time now.

Verbal sparring with my life partner to be, my college besties and my Amma and  Appa. Missing. Its not like I don’t appreciate the people around me now. Simply that I yearn for the not so sensitive remarks I often received and my ‘oh so clever’ retorts.

Or perhaps I’ve just graduated to the next stage of my world exploration- discovering how very ironic life’s experiences are.images (1)For the next 6 months anyone?


A life I call my own – Home Sweet Home

The difference a cosy bed can make is definitely underrated. What was a house for the last couple of weeks just became home today. All because I decided to splurge on four pillows and color coordinated my bed with the curtains in my room. Oh, need I mention that finally getting a WiFi connection also contributed a teeny weeny bit towards making it MY space. 

What can be better than a cozy bed to come home to!
What can be better than a cozy bed to come home to!

On an introspective note, what really makes me feel good? Isn’t it being in situations where I feel I am in control? Where I am not required to perform, pretend to be stronger than I am or take charge. A pleasant home with a snug warm bed is just like a cup of kopi and peanut butter sandwich in my favorite coffee-house or listening to a 3 hour classical concert. The world fits into my palm. All that I desire is mine. I am somebody that counts. People care what I think, want me to vet their ideas. The phone constantly rings with pleas for assistance. Needless to say, I have to turn down a few requests.

After all, I only have 24 hours in a day. Perhaps I should read a time management book. That means I need to visit the library today. Oh no, one more item added to my to-do list…

“I walk this empty road on the boulevard of broken dreams.I walk alone, I walk alone…”. I suddenly snap out of my reverie at the sound of my mobile ringing. I must have dozed off after all the cleaning and washing I did this morning. Was the dream real? Well, it will be, someday.

A life I call my own – The Singapore Chapter begins

So the settling in period is over. I have moved into my apartment – a place I can call my own for the first time in my life. I have started working at what promises to be a great company. And this is with a complete Devil wears Prada’s ‘Miranda Priestly’ type boss. Doesn’t life seem exciting? 

But all the novelty in my life notwithstanding, I have also been thinking. (Anyone rolling their eyes here?) I am remembering the emotional excesses I go through each time I shift base. Whether it is moving from school to school, or changing sections or a new job or city, I dread the move more than almost anything in my life. I abhor straying out of my comfort zone. Meeting new people and experiencing new cultures may have been romanticized to the utmost in literature and cinema, but I never enjoy the insecurity of it all. More than the excitement associated with the newness, I am reluctant to let go of what I’m leaving behind. 

This time around, my Mumbai phase was especially eventful. A tad bit late to the adventure phase- wasn’t it supposed to be the teenage years or for the more conservative, the early 20’s- I goofed up sufficient times to be called ‘cool’. I thought I had fallen in love- with absolutely the worst type of guy I could have found myself. I suffered through one wild party after another and almost started enjoying it, till I returned to my senses and ‘found myself’. I cringed at the thought of leaving my ‘adda’ to start work in an industry that was alien to me.

Until the present that is. After all the usual drama at the Mumbai airport while saying my goodbyes, as soon as I got on the plane, my tears dried up. I haven’t spent a single moment these few weeks reminiscing about the past months in India. Instead, a sense of anticipation is building up. After all, I am alone for the first time in a city with no grownups to bark instructions at me -technically, hostel life doesn’t count as independence! Of course, I am nervous with all the new responsibility. Of course, I am worried about screwing up. But for the first time ever, I want to embrace LIFE.