The 2AM friend

The one you call when the whole world is against you, the one who listens without judgement, the one who talks without preaching, the one who drops everything to be there. The one, period.

Who's mine, you ask? No one. I am no one's either.

Never will I ever...

Was watching this random TV show tonight. There was a guy who walks in (London) rain to express his true feelings to the girl he has liked forever. Weirdly, my first thought upon seeing that was I would never do that. However, that thought soon metamorphosed into "I would never do that anymore". That got me thinking about for what else has it been too late. Which all trains have left the station? What am I already too late for? What will I never do anymore? What all do societal norms stop me from? 

While I am not close to what will be considered an old age, I realize that there are some things that I am definitely too late for.  Or maybe it is just not socially acceptable to do so at my age. Some of what would have been endearing 20 years ago would be considered downright creepy now.  Not all of these are regrets though. Some are a sigh of relief in a way.

Without further ado, here it is. I wouldn't anymore..

• Be woken up at odd hours with a call about my parents because "it's time". I am 2 for 2 on that account. Been there and, with a heavy heart, done that.
• Be worried about getting home too late in the night. Wifey is usually asleep by then, mother didn't. 
• Call your home phone to ask your parents to talk to you. I assume you have a cellphone now and, anyway, I wouldn't know how to introduce myself to your husband if he picks up the home phone.
  
• Feel the joy and the pain of being in and out of love. I am married already.
• Know the agony and ecstasy of a crush. I might still get attracted to someone but it will be a little less rational and a little more carnal.
• Wait after school is over to just get another glimpse of you. I just look at social platforms but it is not the same as waiting for you to show up.
  
• Start a job and just show up. There is a team to take care of. There are people to talk to.
• Pack my bags and travel on a whim. There are school schedules to consider.
• Do nothing all day. There are meals to fix, dishes to clean and sundry other things to wrap up. 
• Not worry about where the money in the wallet came from. What's going out is as concerning as how much is coming in.
• Sit for another academic exam. What do I study to excel in the annual health checkups anyway.
• Yearn to know a musical instrument. Not enough talent, not enough sense.
•  Trudge through a book I don't like. Life's too short to go through this big pile of pending books anyway.

Teri khushboo mein base khat

Heard this song recently....."teri khusbooo mein base khat mein jalata kaise" - how could I have burned the letters soaked in your essence. Transported me to a phase of my life from a while back...

There was this girl...

- We were together in 8th grade and I had a massive crush on her. I wasn't the only one though. Probably half the boys were in the same situation (some close friends included). I was never vocal about my feelings. However, I do remember many many afternoons after school where I will make up a reason to wait on the side of the road with my bike till her school bus passed by. Now, we were in the same class but just that glimpse of her made the rest of my day. It was so private a ritual that it helped me get through the rest of my day.

I would always always take a detour while going to my friend's house just to pass in front of her house. I never, not even once, saw her there but that didn't matter. It was enough to know that I passed by her house. Hey, I was 13! It was pretty darn romantic.

End of grade 8, she moved to a different town. My 8 month crush came to an end. The story would have ended there but....

- 12th grade. I had taken this course to get into elite engineering colleges. We had a mock test in a  different city. And who do I run into, but her. And who does not say a word - me. I was tongue tied. I didn't know what to say. Test ends, she drives by on her bike. I am standing on the side while she is driving by and I cannot even bring myself to say hi. Though I had enough energy to throw my stuff in the dirt after she left. The story would have ended there but....

- End of high school. I give a few exams and try my luck in a few colleges. I am in the line for the entrance for one of the colleges with my dad and who is the row right behind us...yep! The whole process lasts maybe an hour and the sum total of words spoken by me to her....zero. The story would have ended there but....

- I finally decide on an engineering college and realize who is in the same college......sigh, yes...her. Anybody would have taken the hint by now but I ain't anybody. Fast forward to 4 years and we barely exchange a few words. Someone who shared the same first name tried to help me but that didn't pan out (story for another blog post another day). The story would have ended there but....

- I start working after college and end up rooming with a guy whose close friend is in the same masters program as this girl. On his urging, I wrote the one and only love letter to her. Credit where credit is due, she responded. She told me there was someone else in her life (this was the only letter addressed to me that my mom opened and read but that is a topic for another day). The story would have ended there but....

- Few months later, she emailed me to ask if she can get internship in my company. We met, we talked. She told me that "when I read your words, you make me cry. When I meet you, you make me laugh". Story of my life I guess. She also said - "don't tell him (her boyfriend) about this". I was confused. I was not embarrassed about my feelings for her. Maybe she was...about me. The story would have ended there and it did (facebook stalking for the next few years not withstanding)

When I got the letter from her, it hurt. It hurt to know what I already knew. I decided i will keep it close to me till someone actually said "I love you" to me. This was my revenge to show her that I can be loved. I kept the letter in my wallet.

Took longer than expected...I was starting to get really worried about this....but I was in Bangkok for work a few years later having just left a girl in US after knowing her briefly. In one of her emails, she told me that she loved me. Surely that counted. That evening, I went to the balcony of that hotel and lit the letter on fire telling the wind that there is someone who actually loves me. The moment I was done with beating my chest, I realized that the ashes of the letter were blowing all over and people were looking up to find the source.

I made myself lost in shadows...again.

Best laid plans and all that

So..... 2020 happened. Not just to me. To everyone. But I care about the one that matter to me - ME

2020 pretty much started with the job loss for my spouse. Things were pretty much downhill from there. My job loss followed. While I know that the loss was more for political reasons than for my capability, I cannot help thinking that it is a reflection on who I am.

I changed job last year. In hindsight, I got swayed by promise of instant money. I should have known better. I am not meant for instant mega riches. I was only supposed to gradually get more. Inevitable followed - horrible year at the job followed by the loss of income. What did I gain - not much apart from the understanding of what not to do and who not to trust. I have always maintained that I have learned more from bad managers than from the good ones. It's time to extend that to jobs and friends.

Last year has been soul-crushing. I heard from multiple people that I am not good enough. I sensed it in a few others. So much so that I believed it for the most part. Then I talked to my colleagues from previous job and they told me that I am better than I think I am. Not sure who is delusional. Maybe I am.

The job search hasn't done much for my confidence either. I am flunking interviews that I could clear in my sleep. I am getting a chance to do some consulting work but I am too polite to ask for more money. I was always polite but I thought I was able to stand up for myself. Where did the fire go?

Just the other day, the igniter in our stove went out. My first thought wasn't how to fix it but "I understand". I feel like I have lost the spark. This is not the first time in my career that it has happened. The last time it happened, I ended up getting a gig that I will consider my best ever. I will gladly give up a kidney to be part of that team again....oh, the benefits of hindsight.

I look for signs that I will come out of it better than before. It might take time but I will sail through it. I have days of despair interspersed with days of hope. I have never not worked and this feeling of having failed my wife and kids is weighing on my conscience. I am honest with my kids about the situation but can't ignore the nagging feeling of what they will see their dad as, maybe in 5-10 years when they understand the realities of life. I am drowning myself in books to ignore the voices in my head but I don't know how long I can keep this going. One thing is for certain, I will be so grateful to get the next job that I will give it 200%.

I have maybe 15-20 years left in my career. I just need a chance. I just need someone to take a chance on me. They won't be sorry.

The arc of life

I lost my father when I was 30, my mother when I was 40. I am too scared to turn 50.

While my father's death broke me and made me question everything, my mother's death made me question my own mortality. I had this sudden realization that considering the fact that both my parents didn't live past 65 and I was on my early 40s, if genetics had their say, then I was done with 2/3rds of my life already.

I have this belief, whether rational or not, that I will not live much past 65. It is a gut-punch when you realize that you have lived longer than you have left to live. When the road ahead is much shorter than what you see in the rear-view mirror. You wonder where you were at the half way point, at the 1/3rd point. How did you not realize that you have already lived most of your life. That you may have a mere 20-25 years to live.

As the years pile on and the medicine cabinet gets a new addition every couple or years, I realize that my genetics are stronger than my will to defeat them with better living. Are all those hours of post-exercise muscle pain worth it? Was the salad diet a worthy pay off in the end? Will I have the same number of years if I become a slob. Do I get a few more years if I eat healthier and work out even more? Where is the payoff?

Every flutter in the heart, every muscle pain makes me realize that my best years are probably behind me. I read somewhere that "we are all put on this earth to do a specific set of things. Right now, I am so far behind that I will never die". I always thought I had such a long list of books to read that I don't have the luxury to die right now but these days, I feel myself subconsciously prioritizing what I have left to do. I am quick to drop anything that doesn't interest me. I don't want to lose out on my to-read/to-watch pile when the time comes. My OCD mind wouldn't want something left midway. I want to use every waking hour tying up the lose ends.

 

There was this joke doing the rounds around the time the world was supposed to end on the basis of the Mayan calendar - no way is the world going to end in X days, my yogurt has an expiration date beyond that. These days, when I buy yogurt, I always think back to that joke and wonder if the yogurt I buy now is the one that has an expiration date longer than mine.

When I grow up, I wanne be

The other day, a bunch of us got together and started this silly game of "what did you want to be when you grow up". The responses all around were fairly predictable - pilot, scientist, astronaut etc etc.

While I was waiting for my turn, I tried hard to think about what I did want to be when I grew up but kept drawing a blank. The inevitable happened. They asked and I said...nothing. I had no ambition of being any specific profession after growing up. The usual banter followed with most of the people assuming that I was being haughty and just trying to stand out by not naming a profession. Some assumed I was being a jerk, some thought I was just unimaginative, others thought it must have been something weird that I didn't want to call out.

It was a silly game but it got me thinking. Did I really not have any ambition growing up? For the longest time, I remember that my only thought growing up was to be filthy rich. It is not like I grew up dirt poor or among very rich friends but all I remember thinking was that I just want to make a lot of money when I grow up. I saw my father being worried about money for most his life though he never told us about this. Somewhere, deep down, I thought if I just have a lot of money by any means necessary, all the troubles will go away. This is of course, not a profession and not something you mention in a friends group specially if you are not filthy rich already.

I am an engineer by education but I don't think I even wanted to be one till the day I got an admission into an engineering college. I didn't think too hard about leaving my home country till I did. I sat for an MBA admissions test and cracked one of the hardest exams in my home country (didn't clear the interview though) but didn't even know what MBA implied even when I went for the interview.

Sometimes I think I am just like an old rotten leaf that a tree shed into a fast flowing river. The leaf has no will of it's own, it just goes where the river takes it. I have been accused of being "passive" and "soft" more times than I can count. It angers me but, somehow, that never hurts. What did hurt once was when my sister told me that her son was like me in the way that he "just does the minimum to do what's good enough and never realizes his true potential". Am I really like that? Do I really have more potential that I think I do? Am I just plain lazy? I have often wondered what qualities people see in me? I am not in the least humble but do I underestimate myself or do I put a facade for people?

As to my "ambition", I did start out trying to be rich but then, life happened. Rather, death happened. Two or them. My father went first and it broke me in more ways than I thought possible. He saw and heard of me living a hard life and passed away a couple of months after I bought my first house. I wanted nothing more than to have him come and see my house. He never could. Ten years later, my mother left as well and suddenly money, or the accumulation of it, made no sense at all. 

Life goes on...I have some money. If rest of my life takes the expected course, I will have more. Will I have enough? Or is the right question to ask here is that will I have enough that my kids will, one day, be able to name what they wanted to be growing up and not be embarrassed that the only thing they can think of is that they just wanted more money.