This morning I was in Delhi, now I am not. Tomorrow I won't be waking up to a radio alarm, an impromptu conversation with the colleague(who goes to work at 8! and calls me) and crying out for the morning coffee with my eyes still shut!
Wrapping up four months of work and life in a few boxes has been tough. And I am not going to mention how many boxes. Coming back to the prohibited state marks an end to my stint at Fashion Journalism. Rise for Two minutes of silence. Okay! It is time for something new again! Do i sound bored? Yes! Well, I have no answer to the "Whats next" question. My mom tried and then called quits. So bear with me.
To tell you, I am a round the clock cribber. I cribbed of work. I whined of eleven hour schedules. I cried when had to go to work with a hangover. There was a moment when I cribbed on having to travel to Mumbai every week. I cried of not having enough time on hand. Not being able to meet my friends. Not being able to get drunk at events except the less-bubbled bubbly. Of working way past the midnight. And then one day, it was the time to leave. Eventually I fell in love with work (read: in the last week), its people and the chaotic cubicle system, the annoying dumb charades and the guy who fatulated and then put out a migraine- striking freshener. I fell in love with dragging myself every afternoon and even working on Sundays. The Graduation Goggle effect, what say?
Life there was good. Imagine waking up to pancakes and honey everyday. Living with a Fashion photographer and his baby bump-ed wife. Client meetings that never lasted more than thirty minutes. Taking decisions at work playing darts. The parathe wali galli ke kababs. I could go on!! I started off loving Delhi a long way back, from the Dude's days at the Doons. The novelty of the city never ran out of me. But now suddenly i see pinning for some new city. Some new flavor. A new thing to do. and I have no idea what it is.
I have been often told and retold , that I wear my heart on sleeve. Also that I treat life as fragile it is, with a hint of carelessness. And while, so far I have not had any reason to accept that assessment, I think I have gotten myself into something weird this time. Call it poop. Because it is indeed messy. Trust me, this situation is by no means enviable. All I can do is to blame the flickering mind and distance. The near-ness to one, the far-ness from another. But, whatever the reason may be, I am left here trying to come terms with it. Come terms with it all. You think I talk in riddles, well that is the state of my mind right now. Sigh!
In retrospect (written after half an hour of staring at the same page), this post does sound boring and low. I am just in a mellow (read:shallow) state of mind, don't worry (if you were); I am hoping its just the PMS, for then this too shall pass.
Wrapping up four months of work and life in a few boxes has been tough. And I am not going to mention how many boxes. Coming back to the prohibited state marks an end to my stint at Fashion Journalism. Rise for Two minutes of silence. Okay! It is time for something new again! Do i sound bored? Yes! Well, I have no answer to the "Whats next" question. My mom tried and then called quits. So bear with me.
To tell you, I am a round the clock cribber. I cribbed of work. I whined of eleven hour schedules. I cried when had to go to work with a hangover. There was a moment when I cribbed on having to travel to Mumbai every week. I cried of not having enough time on hand. Not being able to meet my friends. Not being able to get drunk at events except the less-bubbled bubbly. Of working way past the midnight. And then one day, it was the time to leave. Eventually I fell in love with work (read: in the last week), its people and the chaotic cubicle system, the annoying dumb charades and the guy who fatulated and then put out a migraine- striking freshener. I fell in love with dragging myself every afternoon and even working on Sundays. The Graduation Goggle effect, what say?
Life there was good. Imagine waking up to pancakes and honey everyday. Living with a Fashion photographer and his baby bump-ed wife. Client meetings that never lasted more than thirty minutes. Taking decisions at work playing darts. The parathe wali galli ke kababs. I could go on!! I started off loving Delhi a long way back, from the Dude's days at the Doons. The novelty of the city never ran out of me. But now suddenly i see pinning for some new city. Some new flavor. A new thing to do. and I have no idea what it is.
I have been often told and retold , that I wear my heart on sleeve. Also that I treat life as fragile it is, with a hint of carelessness. And while, so far I have not had any reason to accept that assessment, I think I have gotten myself into something weird this time. Call it poop. Because it is indeed messy. Trust me, this situation is by no means enviable. All I can do is to blame the flickering mind and distance. The near-ness to one, the far-ness from another. But, whatever the reason may be, I am left here trying to come terms with it. Come terms with it all. You think I talk in riddles, well that is the state of my mind right now. Sigh!
In retrospect (written after half an hour of staring at the same page), this post does sound boring and low. I am just in a mellow (read:shallow) state of mind, don't worry (if you were); I am hoping its just the PMS, for then this too shall pass.
There is no like button so i'll have to type it. i liked it. More introspective than usual.
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