The knowns and the unknowns

This will almost certainly be the last post for the year. No real reason to write this except, I thought I should write an end of year post where I know it is end of year post. So there's that...

Heading to birth country next week. Equal parts trepidation, excitement, apprehension, concern and possibly most every other emotion known to humankind. Even though this trip is 5 years after the last one, I am hoping I get some time for introspection. There are some questions only I can answer and some answers only I can question.

Career feels like it is at a a standstill. I know there will be no upward mobility but am I too fearful t make the move outside. How do I even do it? Should I wait for the right thing to fall in my lap? Will I have the wisdom to say no to what may not be right? What I know for sure is that I can't be sitting this time next year at the same place. Something has to give. There have been way too many unhappy days but no one to talk to them about. Whosoever said that success is a very lonely pursuit probably didn't know enough about failure. 

While I don't believe I am an abject failure, I do think I haven't come close to what I could have or even what I wanted to achieve. Though, if you ask me, I can't even tell you what "it" is, I know I haven't come close to achieving "it". I seem to have developed a whole new defeatist attitude. I am hoping that the next gig changes it. I am pretty sure I wasn't like this 2 jobs ago.

So much for the holiday season post. Oh well, the vacation should be good. Time to spend the time with the loved ones. 

Let's see what the new year has in store for us.

Chaos Theory

There are a million thoughts racing in my mind but when I try to string a decent sentence together, I am drawing a blank. This is like watching a war scene in a movie where thousands of people are clashing with thousands of others - you can see the overall picture but none of the individual soldiers are distinguishable from others.

On the personal front, I am battling with a question that probably every parent faces in some form or another - how involved do I get in my kids life. I was raised with very hands off parents and I think I turned out ok. I am trying to be a little less hands off than them (not that they set a high bar) but I often wonder if I am still too hands off. It is hard. 

With my significant other, we have settled into a groove after nearly 2 decades of being married to each other. Some of this is the comfort of familiarity. There are still some ups and downs but but the crests and valleys have been smoothed out. The highs are not that high and the lows don't last that long. If I think of this as a waveform, does it mean that the relationship will flatline not too long from now?

Professional front is not that different. I often find myself wondering about how long I have to work. I am still only 48 and not financially secure so it is quite a bit of a defeatist attitude. But maybe I never had the fire in me. There is only so much I can blame on the opportunities presented to me. How many times have I gone out of the comfort zone? Probably not in nearly 2 decades. 

 I see some of my contemporaries and some juniors doing so much better and it stings a bit so maybe I have not lost the fire entirely but I am too timid to challenge the status quo. Yeah, most times the current job sucks with no scope for advancement or decent chunk of money but I still don't know to change any of it. Still waiting for good things to happen to me. I think the last time this happened was nearly a decade ago so it is a fool's errand.

Life has turned out to be very different from the track I thought it had taken once - I am not exactly a very likeable person with a bright future ahead.

The Summer Freeze

 I was watching a webseries today where this lady who goes out for a date with a gray-ish kind of character tells him at the end of the date to not mention it to anyone. It triggered a thought...

Quite a few moons ago, I wrote my one and only love letter to this girl who turned me down. What I didn't mention then is that she contacted me after that letter to ask for an internship in the company I was working at at that time. I don't even know how we did this pre-email and pre-cellphone days but we somehow figured out a day and time to meet.

We met at this small restaurant near my office. She looked resplendent in this dark gray salwar-suit. I somehow could not put 2 decent sentences together in English (not much has changed since then regarding my capability). Some things stick out though.

She mentioned that she was in a relationship with her classmate. I mentioned his name. She was surprised I knew. I told her that everyone knew and I hope she is happy etc (what is this nonsense? I hope that the guy gets serious rash on nether areas or, better still, his penis withers and drops off). 

She mentioned that she loves ice cream. I didn't then and probably still don't really. But I have often thought about this. I hope she controlled her sugar intake in the intervening years. 

Out of the blue, she asked me to not mention my infatuation with her to anyone. I was taken aback. That made no sense. Why should she be embarrassed about my feelings towards her. Was she unsure of her relationship? Was he jealous of me? Was there gossip about me and her in the hostel? Would things have been different if I had talked to her more during all the chance encounters? Would I have preferred it that way? Weirdly, in all these years, when I try to think of alternate reality, she is not the one I think about.

At the end of the meal, I walked her to the bus stop. As we were waiting for the bus, I saw this small sweat drop trickling from behind her ear and down her neck (half a lifetime later, it is still a very vivid memory for some reason). Since I didn't have anything to wipe it with, I had this weird thought of licking it (half a lifetime later, it is still a very vivid memory for some reason). Glad I didn't.

Anyway....she left shortly after. I saw her go knowing fully well that I will probably never see her again. And I was (and am) ok with it. I should have been devastated but I actually felt liberated. Went back to the office and doubled down on flirting with another girl in the office within the next hour...

At the intersection of "what-if" and "you gotta be kidding me"

So, the chance encounter I feel I have been looking forward to for years, happened last week. In some ways, it was exactly how I imagined, in some ways, probably better.

Went to this event which was a gathering of hundreds of folks of same ethnicity. While parking the car, it suddenly struck me - what if the encounter happens today? At this point, it had just become a mental exercise. Every gathering big or small, I imagined the encounter, it never happened. I got a little bummed and thought about the next one. Life went on...
 

Just like every time before this, my eyes were looking everywhere hoping to catch a glimpse of her in a dark theater. Chances were probably less than zero. No sighting at the start of the show or during the break. After the show ended and as everyone was filing to get out, I just smiled at another futile event and prepared for the eventual disappointment. I mean, why would this day be any different? Another 5 seconds here or there and this would have been the same ending as always.

But this was meant to end (begin?) differently. I saw her. I could scarcely believe it. I looked away and then looked again to casually engineer the moment when we casually notice each other at the same time. But… when I saw her notice me, I did a casual wave. I was supposed to act surprised but can you really blame me?

(Sidebar - many moons ago, another chance encounter with someone who shared the same first name... I stood in her way and didn't say a word. If I did, maybe life would have turned out differently. Probably better, it didn't. Maybe? Maybe not?)

We were a few feet away and I motioned that we should catch each other outside. Gave me a minute to collect myself as my legs had turned to jello and the heart was racing a mile, nay, a 100 mile a minute. I am a teenager probably 3 times over. This is not supposed to happen to me.

Went out, met her, could barely put 2 sentences together. Was probably too excited and too nervous and too everything and too nothing at the same time. Probably cut a sentence short and ran away like a teenager. Not before exchanging the digits though ( to my relief, she asked). Glad that the darkness hid the color on my cheeks.

Came back, slept and had an extended conversation in the dreams. Next morning, sent a text on the way to the airport. Wrote it, edited it, edited again, edited once more and didn’t send for a while. But then I did and then started sweating that I didn’t word it properly. Imagining the scenario that the innocuous text is discovered by someone else.

I don’t even know how much of my imagination about the years past is just my imagination. Maybe some, maybe none, maybe all. All I know is that, in an alternate reality, there is more than one ending to this story.

Who writes my scripts?

After a day of travel, I was planning to call my significant other and accidentally pressed the callback button for her from when she had given me her number with a missed call. Honest mistake since they both share the same maiden name (see above for my qurey on my the author of my scripts). Quickly hung up hoping she didn’t see it and kicked myself. Also changed significant other’s name to my last name to avoid future mistakes. 

Not having heard anything by next day, I told myself - you have lived with the imagination for 25 years, what's the big deal about the remaining 17 years (remember - i will be dead by then). Pretty sure I came across really desperate with the text and call. The good thing is, now I get to think of a new scenario because I won’t hear back. I was disappointed but then, in a way, bit relieved or maybe not. Decided that I will not stress about it and move on. It was a very taxing 6am thought!

And then, in the middle of a meeting, the response pops up. I am pretty sure I smiled like an idiot. Didn’t read the response till later because I didn’t want to send a read receipt which was microseconds after I got the text. Yes, I am like that!

She apologized for late response and missing the call. Phew! Dodged that bullet. Nice response from her - Sorry, I was busy. let’s catch up etc.

I respond casually- yeah, whatever. Will call after dinner or won’t. Who knows… (almost responded with - didn’t mean to call you, it was an accident. Glad I kept the honesty in check)

So what do I do after dinner? Accidentally dial her number again!!! I am a (an?) grade A idiot. Make that A+ please. Almost texted that it was an accident dial but choked my honesty to death again.

Anyway, she called back. We talked. For quite a bit. My significant other called and I ignored. Her spouse called, she ignored. We talked for an hour. Felt good. Really good. Really Really good. Like talking to a long lost friend. Not what I had imagined but glad it was this way. I really did miss her and her friendship. Still kicking myself for not keeping in touch.

She says she wants to meet. I would love to. Told her we can meet after her family commitments in a couple of months. I can hardly wait to meet my long lost friend. Someone who knew me for being me.

Yes, in an alternate reality this would have ended differently. But this is my current reality and I am happy for what I have. Do I regret the alternate reality? Does she? I guess I will never know...

Who really does write my scripts?

Sing me a lullaby

At some point in my late teens/early twenties, I got this thing in my head that sleeping fewer hours every night gives me more waking hours to maximize my life. Or maybe this is some shit I read in a book sometime. Here is how the "logic" goes - suppose you life for a 72 years (I had to find a number wholly divisible by both 3 and 4. You will see why). If you sleep an average of 8 hrs a night, you spend a third of your life ( =24 years) in sleeping. However, if you sleep only 6 hrs a night, you only spend a quarter of your life ( =18 years) sleeping. Simple math - you have 6 extra years that you can do amazing things with. Amazing how math works! 

I internalized it very early in life. In my early twenties, I worked hard and, for many years, slept 6 hrs or less every night. I am a light sleeper so it was not as much of an issue as you would think. In my thirties, that became about 6.5 hrs. Sometimes in my forties, it became about 7. Although, for some reason, I just sleep less on weekends than on weekdays. Now, going by my logic, those extra years of accumulated time should have resulted in me cracking the genetic code, or world peace, or hunger or something that monumental by now. The math is not exactly the issue here... The issue is that I am highly unimaginative. In my twenties, I spent those extra hours just partying (mostly). Ever since I got married, most of those hours have been spent reading while my better half sleeps soundly (and wakes up refreshed) by my side. I always envy people who can sleep for long. I cannot remember the last time I slept for 8hrs in a night (and wasn't too drunk or something). Talk about messing up your life based on an ill-conceived notion from your youth. 

However, today, my son asked me how I know so much about everything. Is it because I read so many books? It isn't. But probably makes reading them worth it if he thinks so. Weirdly though, it reminded me of my biggest fear about dying before my kids are fully grown and what not. How will I teach them everything I know about things big or small. How will they know all the trivia in my head? I guess they won't. I just hope they won't make the same mistake that I did of never asking my dad about everything in his head. I didn't ask, he didn't tell. I just don't want my kids to learn everything on their own when I learned so much on their behalf. 

Though I never pay this much heed, is it too much to hope that I will be able to impart bits of it to my grandkids. 

Feeling a little sleepy now....

Hit the road Jack

Came back from this amazing trip across a bunch of national parks in Utah with the family. Drove the length and breadth of the state in a week. Something close to 2k miles! I planned the itinerary in detail and finalized all the little details. This is very unlike me. I like to control the holiday itinerary but this was another level. I drove like a maniac. I was stressed out every minute of that vacation but I made sure everyone else had a good time. I drove like the end of the world is near. My world, that is.

I was dealing with a health scare. Yeah, the same one from last year. I thought it came back with a vengeance. I thought there was a finality to it this time. Everytime I thought it was a blip, the symptoms would came back. I just could not put the thought out of my mind. Every waking moment I was thinking of the finality of it all. I spent my time thinking about the messages I will leave behind for both the kids. You know the "open this on XXX" kinds? Time permitting, I plan to have two each; one for the graduation and one for the wedding. I have one of the four about partway done.

When we embarked on this vacation, my thought was that this is the last time I get to do this before the elder kid goes to college. Who knows if/when the next one will be? During the trip, I kept thinking that this was the last time I might get to do this, period. If that is how things turn out to be eventually then I wanted to have this one last big one with the kids. I couldn't take my eyes off them, I just couldn't have enough of them just in case there is something to this whole thing about afterlife.

Towards the end of the vacation, they mentioned that this was the best vacation ever. If this happens to be the last of it's kind, I hope everyone remembers it for the good time they had and not as the last good time they had with me. They have memories and a lot of pictures atleast. I am told I can't take much of it in afterlife.

The symptoms seem to have subsided since yesterday. Maybe I will get it checked. Maybe I won't. However the cards fall, I have learnt to treat every vacation as my last.

Control the uncontrollable

 Been a bit of a week...

Stayed off booze for a good 6 weeks. Then got drunk. Twice. In a week.

It is no secret from anyone that I don't expect to live beyond 65. Last week, talked to both my siblings separately and came to know that they are living with the same fear. Rationally speaking, this should not have been news. I share my parents and my ancestors with them. Their genes are my genes. How did I ever think that I would be the only one affected by the early deaths of my parents and grandparents. In all these years, I somehow never thought that they will look at it the same way I do. That somehow they will live much longer (I hope they do). It was a gut punch to think that I have been just playing the victim in my mind all these years but didn't spare a thought for them. I am a very selfish man. I got drunk. I was hurt. I talked too much. 

Three days later I did it all over again. What makes it many times worse is that this time it was a work event. I opened my heart, my hurts to a co-worker (who might be my boss some day). I have taken pride in being fiercely private all my life. There are things that people closest to me don't have a clue about. There is only so much I can blame on alcohol though. Maybe, deep down, After all these years, I want to share. With somebody. Anybody. Not appropriate for work though. Next day, I thought, I will be a changed man. I will behave differently. Probably not. One night of drinking does not change who I am.

And who am I? An alcoholic who can't control his tongue? Or an alcoholic who just doesn't know when to stop? Or a soul wanting to be heard? Sometimes, I just want to be by myself and shout. Shout. And cry. And cry. And cry. 

I am lonely. Very lonely. 

I don't even know who am I writing this for. I will never reveal this blog to anyone. No one will ever know who wrote it. Perhaps, that's for the best.