Another Day on the Job

“I can’t wait to grow up and do all the things that I want to that my parents won’t let me!” As a typical teenager that would often be my angry outburst. I don’t know exactly what those things that I wanted to do were. But it did include not going to the insanely torturous physics tuitions, bunking school, probably going out more often, but again, where and to do what, I have no clue. Someone once described me as fiercely independent. He couldn’t have been more precise. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be asked questions, and I wanted to do exactly what I wanted.

Now, however, that I am staying alone in a new city for a couple of months, and there is no one around to be asking me any questions, or to tell me what to do, after returning from a 10-6 job schedule, I find myself curled up on the sofa, sipping coffee and reading a book, or doing something on my laptop. Not going out to discs, not partying, not talking on the phone late at night, and not even doing a lot of shopping. In fact, I desperately want to go back home now, but I suspect that has more to do with home food than anything else. It was while talking to a friend about not doing anything that I realized I am doing exactly what I would have done at home. True, I don’t have to go to SG’s classes now, and I don’t have any studies either, but those were pre-JEE days. Still, I comprehend this is exactly who I am. Even when I am older and working, I will come home looking forward to the cup of coffee and the book waiting for me by the sofa, or the movie that my roommate and I had been waiting to watch for ages. I’m not the partying-boozing-going-out-every-night kind of girl. I don’t like dancing and I don’t particularly enjoy alcohol. I admit it’s fun at times when you are with friends, but it’s hardly something important to me. I’d rather watch 90210 and Friends or Big Bang Theory with my friends. Or ‘Roman Holiday’ with my sister for the umpteenth time and still be mesmerized by every single scene.

I look out from the train window to see the crazy rush outside, when you have to just stand and wait for the crowd to carry you out, where you have to wait for at least 10 minutes to cross one road, that isn’t even anywhere near the most crowded parts of the city. I see the people rushing, hurrying, as if possessed. But then I notice the grey monsoon clouds wafting across the murky sky. I see the tiny droplets dancing in the muddy puddles, I see a couple of kids playing “Ham-cheese-Ham-burger” undeterred by the world around them. I see the sun disappear between the tall buildings, but I can still see the brilliantly orange and purple tinted skies. And I don’t care what others are up to; I just know I don’t want to be a part of that crazy crowd. I turn up the volume of my iPod, and with John Mayer’s husky voice singing “Who says I can’t get stoned” in my ears, I step out of the station, oblivious to the noisy insanity around me, walking back at my own sweet pace.

P.S. I just realized that the first line makes me sound so old. For those who dont know, technically, I'm still a teenager. :)