On May 2010, I shifted base back to Kolkata, after 7 years. I don't know why I feel like crying as I write this. My eyes are swelling with tears and I can feel lumps in my throat. It was not a very deliberately thought out decision. Nothing in my life has ever been that way. I do things on instincts, and sometimes keep doing a thing without listening to the strongest of my instincts. And so I boarded the Falaknuma Express, with my messily packed clothes and baggage and some properly packed food that mumma gave me. My mother came to see me off (staking her school salary) and my brother too (though he was more interested to go back soon to his Telugu friends). And then they left, rightly sensing that I needed solitude. But someone was there till the train started moving. And may be a bit longer after that. And we both had tears, and we wanted to NOT cry, lest that made it difficult for the other person. But cry, I did. There were other passengers looking at us, and I wanted to be bold and brave. I don't know what they were thinking : that I was weak, that I was emotional? I am not.
I have faced it all. I have stayed in Kolkata, for eight months now, dragging myself off the bed every morning, edging myself on, to my fitness routine, forcing myself to study STUPID Quant STUPID DI and STUPID VA, and holding on to the belief that it will all turn out rewarding.
But I wonder why? Why did I do all this? Things were in my control, nothing was forced onto me. I have no reasons. And yet, no regrets either. I met Papa here in a different sense, and realised how important it was for him, that I come here. I learnt to see love in his eyes and gestures, like I had never seen before. I saw my grandparents and learnt to admire and appreciate them, their resilience, their very very active old age. Their commendable fitness routine, their hopes, their arguments, their advice, their suggestions, and their motherliness. I saw there are so many people who love me and found the comfort of family. At the beginning there was resentment against them, against myself, against the IIMs, against the 10 lakh packages, but I ultimately had to surrender to the warmth of my family.
I haven't given a 99 percentile type exam, and my score might very well be on the wrong side of 95 percentile. And may be these 8 months will straight add weight to the useless periods of my life, since I haven't written other easier management exams, haven't gained any work experience and obviously haven't joined any college. But I am not going to buckle down. I know exactly what I am worth, and though the details of how my next year would be are hazy as of now, I have a pretty clear picture of how I am going to be a few years away. And that picture is beautiful.
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