I stood at cross roads. I was in a dilemma. There are things I love to do in life and there are things I want to achieve in life for reasons of my own. The things I want to achieve in life are not always the things I love to do. What I love is writing. I love to arrange letters and words in chains. The tall ones,the lean ones, the round ones, the curves and the dots and dashes. What I had wanted to achieve was the civil service. I wanted to clear it so badly because my teachers, nuns, parents and grandparents had talked me into that dream so much that I could not imagine myself doing anything other than an administrative job. Do I love it? I don’t know. But my heart still yearned for it. My prelims result was out yesterday and I had not cleared it. And as my parents say “Come on chinnu, writing is not a job !! writing is….well..it is what people do when they already have a good job in hand..they don’t just write and sit”.
To top up things there was the pending marriage issue. Being unemployed reduces my market value. I am constantly reminded that I’m a girl and that remaining unmarried or opting for late marriage is not something preffered for my gender by the society. Excuse me? The society my child, society – samooham. My father sends deep sighs each time he sees me and my ‘well wishers’ expressed their inmost talents in trying to find a reason for my decision.
I thought about the visit my uncle and aunt were going to pay us next week. It brought pain in my stomach. The questions, apprehensions, advices and the unapproving head nodes would soon follow. A price my parents have to pay for providing me education and freedom to choose from. A price I make them pay for the good they do to me. I was certainly not feeling good. I was standing at a cross road.
Now I had to make a decision, choose a road. Should I join the competetive exam saga again or should I concentrate more on writing? I had to choose a road. I had to find a road. I stood at cross roads. I wish I had a miraculous compass with me showing me the right path to follow. We all wish for it at times, don’t we?
I love the freedom life offers. I don’t like to be tied down in some chain. I wanted to write, to drive, to paint the world pink and green and to run away to the cold hill top that so often comes in my dream. I wanted to travel to villages and teach the children to read and write. I want to make soups and bake cakes and have french wine. I want to sit on the couch reading my favourite book with brewing hot coffee in my favourite coffee mug painted orange and yellow. I want to write, write and write about the little children, the fairy in their dreams, the cobbler, the dancer, the saint, the king and his queens. That is what I wanted. That is what I want. Why do people tell me its not possible?
I also know its not easy. There are broken bridges, rivers to be crossed and roads less travelled. But that is life all about. Isnt it? The trekking, the swimming the running and climbing. Life is not about laying back in a hammock. Is it? you live it only once. So why don’t we just live it? Why do we whistle and clap for movies like Zindagi na milegi dobara and get back to living our lives like Zindagi zaroor milegi dobara? We all presume that Kal Ho Na Ho’s and Dil Chahta Hai’s can work only on screen. Why do we read Dr.A.P.J.Abdul Kalam’s Wings of fire and Indomitable spirit? Why do you say you love Paulo Coelho’s “The Alchemist” if you don’t get the message?
As the Alchemist tells the confused boy, we should listen to our hearts because the treasure is where the heart is. If you do not listen to your heart it will stay inside you and keep repeating what it thinks. It will never be quiet.
