Countdown

So first things first: I think a lot. And when I get down to writing, I write a lot!

People who know me would also like to add that I talk a lot. Yeah that’s a god gifted trait. Now whether I am interested in the conversation or just talking in order to make myself happy is a separate issue. At the risk of being called insane, might I just add that I could even talk to myself !

That’s besides the point. So I am currently 23 years old. And this blogpost is my first in the (probable) series of lemons (situations) that Quarter life period has been handing over to me.

Last year, same time, days were passing by in a frenzy of excitement. Rather a dizzying whirlwind of incidents. It was not your regular “cocktail of emotions”. It was a massive overload of happiness, confusion, farewell-blues, parties, cakes. My last working day at Deloitte was fixed at 12th September 2013. And one of my best friends (and maybe more) – Let’s call him Mr. X, was also leaving Deloitte on the same day. In the previous week, a few of my juniors had already left Deloitte and we had smudged farewell cakes all over their faces, bid them adieu and now I awaited my last day in the organisation where I had spent the last two eventful years of my already weird life.

The plan was : Leave work, study for competitive exams, apply to colleges, and by April 2014 start off with the coveted MBA degree (that my parents want me to obtain.). Now that’s symptom 1 of the QLC syndrome. Leaving what I had in hand, and what made me so happy, I decided to rather do what my parents wanted me to do. I do realize now that after I had crossed over to the 20s, I started paying more heed to my parents worries and nuances. They somehow started making sense to me.

So yeah, my parents had been worried about my “higher education”. Not that I wasn’t, but the constant nudging of my mom coupled with the obnoxious ranting on marriage that would eventually take place in 2-3 years, (because yeah after 25, the girl is too old for Indian men) I decided to take the leap of leaving Deloitte, and get this PG degree that would probably make my future better, in case my “arranged marriage” husband turned out crappy or we didn’t get along well.

Deloitte got over. The work time at Deloitte I mean. The people linger on. Friends I made, my mentors, (the line between a mentor and a friend has kind of faded) are still an important part of my life. With all their blessings, and my parents’ expectations of me performing exceedingly well in all exams, I started off with my exam prep.

Now folks, at that point in time I was very high on confidence. I was already filling up my application forms, ringing up my managers for recommendations which they were more than happy to give, because I was supposed to crack my exam with flying colours! I was studying, with all honesty for the first time ever. Not for the usual reasons of getting an MBA degree. I was studying for all reasons except that one. I wanted to crack the exam so that I dont have to stay at home for an unbearably long period of time; so that I can go to that damned college and have some “fun”; meet new people; and most important- escape marriage. I took several mock exams at home and scored above the 95th percentile in most of them. I was confident I would crack it on the main day.

And then came the main day. I got an 85th percentile. The exam got on my nerves. I started running high temperature in the middle of the exam! The colleges that I had shortlisted for myself were going to give me the middle finger with that score. My parents were devastated. My managers were disappointed. And I was scared- of marriage. (I still am)

This happened in November 2013.

And today is 9th September 2014. An year has passed since I have lured myself into the comforts of a home life. After the examination debacle I started working with my father on expanding the family business and that kept me busy for about 4 months. I felt alright. Not very happy, since I had faced the first ever so called “failure” of my student life. But after April, I stopped going to the office and let my mother take over it. I decided to kind of start preparing for another shot at the exam. Again for the same aforementioned reasons. And now as the exam is approaching fast (On October 13th) I am getting restless. I want to just get it done with! The “Quant- DS, PS, Reasoning”, The “Verbal- RC, SC, CR”- Oh cummon now!! Just get me into one of those B-schools where I can pretend to get a degree in Finance/Marketing; fool myself and everyone else into believing what an important feat I have achieved by reading subjects such as Economics and Accounts and Statistics; And yeah do my own real thing. Party and travel as much as I can, with the limited monetary inflow (since I am not earning anymore and asking vulgar amounts of money from parents, every month, can be painful).

So yeah let’s call this the countdown of the year (Whatever!). I shall continue venting myself out. Maybe sometimes jot down the quirky anecdotes from my secretly eventful life. Or, how sometimes I want to be left alone – Far away from my mom and dad and overtly caring friends. How I sometimes want to talk to people only when I WANT TO- Not when they want to talk to me. How staying at home for so long, without legitimate friends to sometimes chill out with, and fooling myself into being productive has finally started to take toll on me (It’s not all that bad though. I have servants and cars and “pocket money” and I get to visit my friends in various cities for a few days every month. Blah). I have often started wishing now I wasn’t born in India, for reasons as coarse as “I could’ve bagpacked around the world; could’ve done odd jobs to make some money and just travelled; Could’ve had a legitimate boyfriend, lived-in with him, and if we didn’t end up together it wouldn’t be the end of the world”. I want to just lie down and read random things on Psychology and Geography and World Wars. Think about infinity and Universe. I probably have no serious “pseudo”aims or wishes at this point. But Sir ! India is not a very friendly country for aimless, 23 year old, “slightly” upper middle class family girls.

P.s. I love black olives. I could put them in almost every dish.