Stop to smell the roses
Location: Somewhere over mid-western United States
Boy, this is one long flight. I'm going crazy with boredom. I've never felt so restless before. I really needed to clear my head, and put some thoughts on paper. A turbulent, raging turmoil within my mind. Wondering where it has all come to, and where it's going to lead. "Alaipayuthey" would be the appropriate Tamil word.
What's up with airlines nowadays, anyways? Don't they even have some paper and a pen on board? Some paper towels from the lavatory (I love it when you say lavatory, not bathroom, not restroom, but lavatory. On the ground, I go to the restroom. In air, I visit the lavatory) and a borrowed pen (after startling the passenger behind me as she was reading), and I'm all set. Serves me right though. Must remember to always have some writing implements with me. But I guess I deserve some credit for improvisation!
"Another turning point a fork stuck in the rut. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go", goes Greenbay. "How succintly he put it!" I wonder, my love for the song increasing, as does my admiration for the creativity of the song writer. Which brings up questions of my own achievements and non-achievements.
It feels like time moves faster in the US, a feeling that my little cousin from Bangalore, who was on a visit during her 10th grade summer hols, concurred with. I could remember events and incidents from as early as three, with an almost photographic memory, and yet I am hard-pressed to recall the last few years in the US, where I first arrived in 1996. Eight long years, yet looking at it another way, hardly eight.
Maybe it has to do with the hustle and bustle of life here. The independence is refreshing, but comes with it's own price. Paying your bills, washing your dishes, doing your laundry, cooking, cleaning, taking out the trash, as well as the rigors of office routine make the days shorter, and the memories flakier. Perhaps it was inevitable. Before coming here, I led a pampered and sheltered existence. You had a few things to deal with - school, grades, play. You had your goals laid out for you, for the most part. School, high school, college. And then more college, but you were out on your own in a foreign land. Even so, the goals were set. Finish up Master's, get a good job. And even after, the going was good for a while. As you learned the ropes on your job, you had your goals - learn as much as you can, rise up through the ranks.
That's where the problem begins. The rigors of office routine begin to wear you down. After several years of release cycles, bugs to fix, impossible deadlines from seemingly nincompoop upper management, office politics, 9-to-5 (or 8-to-8 or whatever), all in the midst of mundane home routine, failed romances, weekends come and gone, all start to seem mind-numbingly pointless. Yes, you work towards your next office rank, or stay in your comfortable niche, or make your first forays into management, after your stint as an individual contributor. But then what?
What really hits you is when you realise you cannot distinguish one year from another. When exactly did I make that trip to Europe? When did my parents come here for a visit? It's been so many years, and I still haven't found the one. How many potential "the ones" did I come across, and why did things fail? I was alarmed that I couldn't remember the exact details of my dad's first trip here - considering that he's visited only twice in 8 years (my mom has been here more times), and my that my (ex)roommate remembers more of that trip than I do.
That's when I realised, maybe I need some time for introspection - a time to re-live the events of the years past. What this year had to offer. What should I look forward to in the next one. A chronological painting of my life - from as far back as I can remember (which is 3!), to how I got to where I am - somewhere in western United States by now.
Then you remember all the little good times, which your busy life snobbishly stuck its nose at. "There are places I remember, though some have gone, and some remain. All these memories have their moments ...." goes the song by the Beatles, a brilliant group, I must add - one that I truly adore. The question is not just to find meaning in life, but to recall the meaning of the years gone by. When you take a moment to slow down, reduce the gears, and smell the roses. Stop the flailing to try to find meaning in life, and remember all the people whose lives you've already touched, and who, in their own way, wish nothing but the best for you. You'll be surprised how many people they are, and how many you've forgotten.
Let not the routine run your life, but you run the routine. Remember to throw something in there to deliberately break the routine. Look beyond, but also look behind. Reminesce. Dream. Stop to smell the roses.
-Sridhar
posted by Sridhar @ 11:05 PM
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