Getting a job was always of top priority to me. I often underplayed the entire thing because my Mother did her fair share of worrying for me. 'Look at you sleeping, when will you look for a job?' 'How can you be so irresponsible?'  A month and a few days later, I'm here. Associate Image Executive in a fairly large and recognized firm. Some days it is so taxing, it takes all the strength I have to hold it together until I get home, after which I let the floodgates open and think 'what have I gotten my self into?'. Other days, I feel the thrill of learning new things, of handling work by myself and being inspired by the momentum which grips the office. I've already acquired a few commendable habits like starting the day with the newspaper (sometimes three) ,eating regular and healthy meals (vegetarian if you may please) and travelling by bus! Independence is a compelling feeling - and it's only pushing me to be stronger. Although this job intimidates me sometimes, I try to reason with myself that it is only human to make mistakes. Having just stepped out of college, this world is overwhelming and tough to adjust with.  Nevertheless, as my Father says everyday 'try and do ordinary work with extraordinary effort' - success won't be too far away. 

As the rain leaves my window foggy - the sound of it nearly deafening, and my hot evening snack of buttered toast is almost ready, somehow, I feel like it will all be okay. 

Embracing what matters

Today, at 6 15am, I was angry. As I looked out of the rusted rails of the train window, steadily seething, I could only see red. After a little while, when I was tired of dwelling on things that are not in my control, I actually began to look at the green and brown pass by and I thought back to my 11 day holiday. Compared to my usual summers in Chennai, this was different. I got to spend lots of time with my favourite Aunt. I say favourite because I'm positive there's not another person in the whole world like her. She's knowledgeable about everything. And even if you ask her a question about  an unamusing subject like politics, she makes it sound interesting by the way she answers it. Her stories are remarkable. They make you picture everything with details and colour and sounds. I knew my grandparents for a very short while and I mostly remember how old they were, but through her little episodes of their lives and travels, I now feel like I know them a little better-as younger, stronger and active. I laughed at how she described my father's antics, and tried to understand his irrational fears- his childhood. Then there were tales about how my aunts met my uncles, my cousins' growing up, our old house in it's former glory. I was always most keen to hear accounts of my Uncle's life while at sea, his relationship with my beloved Aunt, his caring nature and large heart. She kept him alive through her memories, and in turn, he seemed around us always. Although she complains about being old and tired of life sometimes, for me she will always be the most enlivening and inspiring person.
In the grander scheme of things- a silly wall post, feeling sorry for yourself, looking for something tirelessly and not being able to find it- are all but petty issues. Values, lessons, positivity, strength, being able to learn from someone- things that you can treasure and hold dearly to your heart for a lifetime- these are the things that matter. And this what I have learnt from my Aunt this trip.

'You can seek the advice of others, surround yourself with trusted advisers, but in the end the decision is always yours- and yours alone. And when it's time to act and you're all alone, with your back against the wall, the only voice that matters is the one in your head- the one telling you what you probably already knew. The one that's almost always right.'

The last three days have been painful.
As always, I have realized the fragility of life yet again. It is not easy. It is not easy to accept that someone you loved so dearly and looked upto as an inspiration, is no longer. Death? It's not easy. Sometimes, when I feel my chest tighten, sadness envelop like a woolly black coat and hot streams run down my face, I wonder if there is any consolation at all? I understand karma and life after death. And I understand that no one can escape the inevitability of our mortal lives- I understand the bigger picture. I ask myself, in spite of  knowing all this, how one can cope? How can one learn to overlook a memory, ignore an absence in a family picture or try and forget  everything they ever associated that person with? Time, you may say. Time doesn't erase loss. No amount of strength can efface memories. Today, I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can only hope that tomorrow, when grief learns to accept, that tiny speck will show itself.

When you were little, you always got your way. You cried and promptly came your milk, you threw a fit and everybody surrounded you asking 'what's wrong baby? What do you want?', you were allowed to leave your broccoli if you didn't want it, you were taken to the restaurant of your choice, you got to keep the remote (you even got to pick the movie), your little friend circle always disliked the people you disliked-in short, you did the things you wanted to. You made the decisions. And sometimes you made them for other people as well.
Soon, you grew up. You were admonished for being self centred, you were made to eat your broccoli, you were asked to give other people a chance to pick a movie and everyone formed their own opinions in that same little friend circle. It, of course, took you a while to come to terms with this deviation from what you thought was a way of life. Eventually as you got older, you came to realize that the phrase 'it's my way or the highway' would get you nowhere. However, in spite of being twenty-seemingly reasonable and mature and yada yada- that little adolescent (what with it's timely appearance and all) still has expectations, sometimes. You still like to pick the restaurant even if it's more often than not, you still feel like leaving the broccoli out-for old time's sake, you still expect your friends to side with you even if it isn't their battle to fight and most importantly, you still expect to be understood without having to say it. I say most importantly, because adults have this ostensible notion that saying what you feel is not an option. I don't know if it has to do with the fact that you're afraid of being judged or if in some pathetic way it makes you a lesser person for thinking it. As a subsequent result, you make a little world of your own in that head of yours and you are left to deal with it by yourself. And as if that were not bad enough, you expect to be understood and have the gall to be upset when you're not. I think what I'm trying to say is that- even as adults who are required to be level-headed, free of insecurities and selfless- that little child in us will always be just that- a child.

India to me, is a lot of things. Everything about it's history, culture and diversity intrigues me. So much so that, I feel such pride to be part of the soil of a land so extraordinary.

The other day, I was on my terrace for Sankranti. The sky was dotted with millions of kites, fluttering in the wind. It was overwhelming how effortlessly they floated so high up- colourful and mesmerising. Every terrace was occupied by excited people, string and smiles. I felt such happiness, just watching all these kites fly in unison. Unison. That's the only word I thought of. The coming together of so many strangers, all reveling in the simple joy of  a festival- irrespective of caste, creed and religion- is probably my favourite bit about India. Whether it is the festival of Holi, where the city is painted with all sorts of colours- almost like a canvas that the entire nation paints on- and people await the coming of Spring with excitement. Or the festival of lights where an array of tiny flames flicker and crackers illuminate the dark sky. Or Ganesh Chaturthi, where idols of Lord Ganesh adorn every street and are eventually immersed in water, while hundreds gather and watch them float away slowly- some dissolving and some gently drifting to the bottom. Or Raksha Bandhan, where all around the country, the brother-sister relationship is celebrated. Every one of these festivals miraculously bring so many together, it is truly remarkable.

Tomorrow if life takes me to another country, this is going to be one of the many-but most essential- memories I will hold onto dearly. Because it's not everyday that you feel one with an entire nation.