For all my whining and existential angst, I'm not really unhappy here. No, really, I'm not. I revel in the anonymity that this city gives me, I like not bumping into known faces at every corner, I like the fact that I can order in Kababs at midnight. I have also decided that I love winter in this city. The bright colours, the morning misty breath, the need to wear three layers well into February gives me a high unlike any other. I like the independence. I bitch about my hardships, but there's a rather large bit of me that likes paying my own bills, cooking my own meals, deciding that I want momos for dinner today. I like coming home, fixing myself a stiff drink, and reading the newspaper. Knowing that, if push comes to shove, I can muddle along without anyone's help has calmed that part of my psyche which goes by the name of Marvin: The Paranoid Android. There are days I feel like shit, there are days I feel on top of the world. But at the back of my mind, I always know that there is no one else to blame for the shittiness.
Maybe this is what it feels like to be a grown-up, and I'm not half-bad at it.
Also? In case anyone was wondering, amar autobiographyr naam debo Noshto Meyer Upakhyan. Just so you know.
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3 comments:
I know EXACTLY what you mean.
me too. though now i feel a little schizophrenic living at home again. But no matter how much I crib about being in bangalore and wanting home so much, what you have written is exactly the reason its so amazing. Glad you're in that mental place. (also you're ahead, in the making money and the coming home and getting a stiff drink department.)
tumi ki sotti e noshto hote perecho ..... naki sudhu oi naam ta chao.
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