Life is pleasant, death is peaceful. It is the transition that is troublesome - Isaac Asimov
I am feeling quite restless today. It is perhaps like a student feels nearing the end of his examination - the end is close, but there are still a few barriers to cross. Similarly, I am waiting to sprint towards life in September, when I move to the next stage of life to pursue my M. Phil. in Economics at Oxford. What happens from now till the end of my job feels like 'borrowed time'.
My friends have been taken a bit by surprise by my recent spate of rather emotional status updates on facebook. Perhaps it is during these times on transition that I tend to revert to what is the 'core' of me, and there I discover a lot of anguish, and yet a begrudging acceptance of the anguish. I am not running away from my sadness, and am just getting it out there. I have noticed how it is sometimes difficult for people to understand my pain, just because I smile through it (my smile, on the other extreme, also irritates people because it comes forth in very intense situations - but that is another story in itself).
Put together, there is a lot of uncertainty over the next couple of months. There are lots of things I could optimise for - my career in general, my studies at Oxford, time spent at home, time spent with friends, travelling across India etc. In making this choice, however, I want to go back to that one guiding principle that has done me wonders.
Let me take you back in time. People still ask me why I turned down the IIMs. Any career-minded individual will tell you that it was quite an obvious choice - my job has opened up more doors for me than an IIM ever would. I would be lying if I say that thought did not cross my mind (at that time, however, I did not quite understand how big the difference is). But, for me, it was an intensely personal question. I wanted to spend time with my friends in Delhi - with Manchit, Swati, Juhi, Pranati, Gaurav, Suhani, Juni, Kritika, Anoothi, Abhisek, Niket and all. I hypothesized, at that point, that after two years many of these people would have left Delhi, and that I myself would have had enough of the city that I would want to move on, to a new city and a new life.
Thankfully, all of it has come true. I am still in Delhi, but I might as well have been in any other place in the world. The city has lost its charm for me. Given the life I have lived in the last two months, I feel like I have now done whatever I wanted to do in the city; everything after this would be deja vu, or returning to an old friend at best. I feel ready and determined to move on to new shores.
Coming back, this realisation now gives me the confidence that I am ready to move out of Delhi in these remaining few months. Maybe Mumbai, maybe travel the country or perhaps abroad - but some place where there will be new stories to make. Because Delhi has been kind enough, it will forever remain the nur of my eyes. Because I cannot do any better than the stories and memories I have of this city - my childhood, school, college and work. It is time to move on. Thank you, Delhi.
My friends have been taken a bit by surprise by my recent spate of rather emotional status updates on facebook. Perhaps it is during these times on transition that I tend to revert to what is the 'core' of me, and there I discover a lot of anguish, and yet a begrudging acceptance of the anguish. I am not running away from my sadness, and am just getting it out there. I have noticed how it is sometimes difficult for people to understand my pain, just because I smile through it (my smile, on the other extreme, also irritates people because it comes forth in very intense situations - but that is another story in itself).
Put together, there is a lot of uncertainty over the next couple of months. There are lots of things I could optimise for - my career in general, my studies at Oxford, time spent at home, time spent with friends, travelling across India etc. In making this choice, however, I want to go back to that one guiding principle that has done me wonders.
Let me take you back in time. People still ask me why I turned down the IIMs. Any career-minded individual will tell you that it was quite an obvious choice - my job has opened up more doors for me than an IIM ever would. I would be lying if I say that thought did not cross my mind (at that time, however, I did not quite understand how big the difference is). But, for me, it was an intensely personal question. I wanted to spend time with my friends in Delhi - with Manchit, Swati, Juhi, Pranati, Gaurav, Suhani, Juni, Kritika, Anoothi, Abhisek, Niket and all. I hypothesized, at that point, that after two years many of these people would have left Delhi, and that I myself would have had enough of the city that I would want to move on, to a new city and a new life.
Thankfully, all of it has come true. I am still in Delhi, but I might as well have been in any other place in the world. The city has lost its charm for me. Given the life I have lived in the last two months, I feel like I have now done whatever I wanted to do in the city; everything after this would be deja vu, or returning to an old friend at best. I feel ready and determined to move on to new shores.
Coming back, this realisation now gives me the confidence that I am ready to move out of Delhi in these remaining few months. Maybe Mumbai, maybe travel the country or perhaps abroad - but some place where there will be new stories to make. Because Delhi has been kind enough, it will forever remain the nur of my eyes. Because I cannot do any better than the stories and memories I have of this city - my childhood, school, college and work. It is time to move on. Thank you, Delhi.
No comments:
Post a Comment