Its been almost six months since I moved to Seattle. A lot has happened since then. I have changed I believe in more ways than one. Living on your own makes you feel more confident and self-sufficient than ever. The fact that you're answerable to no one but yourself gives you a strange sense of power, weightless freedom and is equally nerve-wrecking at the same time. You feel like Icarus. You have wings that make you soar, but if you fly too close to the sun and singe your feathers, you have no one else to blame. You are the sole reason for your success. You are the only reason for your failure. Your world revolves around you, and only you. Its a free, independant, selfish, shackle-free life. A life you've always dreamt of having. Only once you have it, it seems like a vast expanse of emptiness.
My day starts with a steaming cup of coffee, in my favourite porcelain mug. Nice and strong. I relish nothing more. I walk to campus. A leisurely stroll. No running. No stressing that I'll miss the bus at eight. The air feels refreshingly chilly. The smell of dewdrops. I catch a waft of the incessant drizzle. I have my favourite song playing on my iPod. I can't help but smile. I go to work. The day goes by in a haze. A flurry of activity. Mindless conversation with friends in class. Laughing at a perfectly innocent question from an unassuming undergrad who happens to think I'm the most knowledgeable person around. Scratching my head over a problem set for hours. Getting together with friends to solve them, and getting almost no work done as the focus was not on the ridiculously hard problems but how unbelievably awesome pretzels are! Amidst a cloud of smoke and smelly chemicals, the lab suddenly erupts into a bout of guffaws the moment Justin Bieber or Rebecca Black shows up on the playlist. Before you know it its a couple of hours past sundown. People start heading back home, cribbing about how non-productive the day was, like all other days in the week. Some light hearted humour. Some serious frustration. I walk down the stairs onto the street. The same leisurely stroll back home. The same song running in a loop on my iPod. The same smile escaped me. Dinner was a mix of rice and chicken I made the night before, all this while catching an episode of my favourite TV show. A day well spent. Or so I would like to believe.
But here's what really happens. My day starts with a steaming cup of coffee, in my favourite porcelain mug. Nice and strong. I relish nothing more except that I would have loved to have it in an unflattering, horribly stained glass, on one of those old, wooden mess tables. I wouldnt mind having some mindless conversation about how someone's hair, and the angle at which they stand up, or the colour of their eyes, gave more than a fair hint as to whether the person had a lazy or a rather 'busy' night. I walk to campus. A leisurely stroll. No running. No stressing that I'll miss the bus at eight. The buildings on my side are still strangely unfamiliar. No comfort of the red bricks I leaned on once for support. The air feels refreshingly chilly. The smell of dewdrops. I catch a waft of the incessant drizzle. But the earth smells different. A strange, foreign, distant smell. Nothing that has a history. I have my favourite song playing on my iPod. Except that its in Hindi. A song I once sang on stage with a thousand familar voices cheering me from the dark auditorium. I can't help but smile. I go to work. The day goes by in a haze. A flurry of activity. Mindless conversation with friends in class. Except that I dont remember a word of it a minute later. Nothing that resonates with my sentiments. Nothing that makes me miss the conversation while I'm having it. Scratching my head over a problem set for hours. Except that I didnt want to care about it as much as I have to do now. Getting together with friends to solve them, and getting almost no work done as the focus was not on the ridiculously hard problems but how unbelievably awesome pretzels are! Except that pretzels or peanut butter don't hit home. Its sexy anda and Mississippi mudpie that still make my heart ache and my mouth water. Amidst a cloud of smoke and smelly chemicals, the lab suddenly erupts into a bout of guffaws the moment Justin Bieber or Rebecca Black shows up on the playlist. Except that I can't bunk lab more often than I made it to it, and catch a movie in a rundown theater instead. Before you know it its a couple of hours past sundown. People start heading back home, cribbing about how non-productive the day was, like all other days in the week. Some light hearted humour. Some serious frustration. I walk down the stairs onto the street. The same leisurely stroll back home. The same song running in a loop on my iPod. The same smile escaped me except that I want to sing it out loud. Dinner was a mix of rice and chicken I made the night before, all this while catching an episode of my favourite TV show. Except there is no conversation. Only a few printed words on skype. No waiting for anyone. No making a ruckus while eating. No walks down silent alleys to follow. A day well spent. Nice and empty.
My day starts with a steaming cup of coffee, in my favourite porcelain mug. Nice and strong. I relish nothing more. I walk to campus. A leisurely stroll. No running. No stressing that I'll miss the bus at eight. The air feels refreshingly chilly. The smell of dewdrops. I catch a waft of the incessant drizzle. I have my favourite song playing on my iPod. I can't help but smile. I go to work. The day goes by in a haze. A flurry of activity. Mindless conversation with friends in class. Laughing at a perfectly innocent question from an unassuming undergrad who happens to think I'm the most knowledgeable person around. Scratching my head over a problem set for hours. Getting together with friends to solve them, and getting almost no work done as the focus was not on the ridiculously hard problems but how unbelievably awesome pretzels are! Amidst a cloud of smoke and smelly chemicals, the lab suddenly erupts into a bout of guffaws the moment Justin Bieber or Rebecca Black shows up on the playlist. Before you know it its a couple of hours past sundown. People start heading back home, cribbing about how non-productive the day was, like all other days in the week. Some light hearted humour. Some serious frustration. I walk down the stairs onto the street. The same leisurely stroll back home. The same song running in a loop on my iPod. The same smile escaped me. Dinner was a mix of rice and chicken I made the night before, all this while catching an episode of my favourite TV show. A day well spent. Or so I would like to believe.
But here's what really happens. My day starts with a steaming cup of coffee, in my favourite porcelain mug. Nice and strong. I relish nothing more except that I would have loved to have it in an unflattering, horribly stained glass, on one of those old, wooden mess tables. I wouldnt mind having some mindless conversation about how someone's hair, and the angle at which they stand up, or the colour of their eyes, gave more than a fair hint as to whether the person had a lazy or a rather 'busy' night. I walk to campus. A leisurely stroll. No running. No stressing that I'll miss the bus at eight. The buildings on my side are still strangely unfamiliar. No comfort of the red bricks I leaned on once for support. The air feels refreshingly chilly. The smell of dewdrops. I catch a waft of the incessant drizzle. But the earth smells different. A strange, foreign, distant smell. Nothing that has a history. I have my favourite song playing on my iPod. Except that its in Hindi. A song I once sang on stage with a thousand familar voices cheering me from the dark auditorium. I can't help but smile. I go to work. The day goes by in a haze. A flurry of activity. Mindless conversation with friends in class. Except that I dont remember a word of it a minute later. Nothing that resonates with my sentiments. Nothing that makes me miss the conversation while I'm having it. Scratching my head over a problem set for hours. Except that I didnt want to care about it as much as I have to do now. Getting together with friends to solve them, and getting almost no work done as the focus was not on the ridiculously hard problems but how unbelievably awesome pretzels are! Except that pretzels or peanut butter don't hit home. Its sexy anda and Mississippi mudpie that still make my heart ache and my mouth water. Amidst a cloud of smoke and smelly chemicals, the lab suddenly erupts into a bout of guffaws the moment Justin Bieber or Rebecca Black shows up on the playlist. Except that I can't bunk lab more often than I made it to it, and catch a movie in a rundown theater instead. Before you know it its a couple of hours past sundown. People start heading back home, cribbing about how non-productive the day was, like all other days in the week. Some light hearted humour. Some serious frustration. I walk down the stairs onto the street. The same leisurely stroll back home. The same song running in a loop on my iPod. The same smile escaped me except that I want to sing it out loud. Dinner was a mix of rice and chicken I made the night before, all this while catching an episode of my favourite TV show. Except there is no conversation. Only a few printed words on skype. No waiting for anyone. No making a ruckus while eating. No walks down silent alleys to follow. A day well spent. Nice and empty.
After reading it,I went back and reread each line in the second and third paragraph and compared the two.The "emptiness" stared back at me.It brings a lump in my throat each time I read it,yet cant help going back and rereading.Love it:)
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