Tuesday, March 26, 2013

So be it

By the end of this year, I should have saved enough to rent a flat for myself. I also hope to find a roommate I approve of and can live with.

That's 9 months from now.
I am only a Features Writer. I am only 23. I haven't done any ground-breaking stories or dug information that no one else could have. My work is just about okay. So, I don't really earn much.

So when I tell my older sister of my plans, her skeptical, faithless and disappointed reflexes,  burn something in me and I retaliate. Then she covers it up by putting forth an inevitable question of how practical it is. I refuse to explain and claim all intelligence and responsibility that I think I possess and declare "I have thought this through. I will manage. Just stop giving those looks".

The truth is I am very worried about the numbers which are my tools to move out. To be on my own. To wake up to a quiet house I can call my place. To spend my mornings listening to music not on headphones. To make my breakfast and lunch in a kitchen organised, labelled, cleaned and maintained by me and by my standards. To have my friends come over whenever I want them to. To do just anything I like.

All I want is a room of my own. Just that it is larger than just a room with more defined territories. All I really want is a home of my own.

And I have wanted this for years now. Maybe three. Four I think.

Since no one in my family has just lived on their own without the excuse of work or marriage, I always knew it would be something of a shock for my family to handle. If I were living separately in the same city, to them it would mean as good as family breaking apart.

After holding myself back for so many years keeping family's interest and lack of funds in mind, I now have all the courage to move out without being pulled back to oblige emotional ties.

According to my sister, it is not pragmatic what with my tiny pay package and the array of responsibilities that being independent calls for none of which I have any commendable experience in.

I say, so be it.

I realized the other day that what I get and what I have asked for may not exactly by the same. But what I get will be quite close to what I want. What I want will not come at once. Plans have to be made and followed upon. Patience has to be maintained. And maybe someday my place will be just as I had wanted it to be. And between now and that someday, all that which may come across might be disappointing. It might push me to the point of frustration. I might find that I am drowned in a pool of hurdles of everyday life. But that's just fine. All that I can take. I can face it all and overcome it. That's hardly anything. Seriously, it is no big deal. It is something I and all of us have constantly tolerated and played with since the beginning. What I am afraid of is to want small. To want less because more seems impossible. What if I start dreaming petty? There will be nothing to move to. Nothing to pine for. Nothing to do anything for. How will I ever fix that?  

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