I have a very malleable mind. It takes in everything that's affecting it, and gets affected. I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, most of them finding their origins in my search and discovery in my Manni's sentiments. And considering that she spent a lot of time in the US, most of those blogs are authored by Indians living in the US (although there is one in Australia).
Reading these blogs creates this burning desire in me to go there and live that life. I have this glamourised idea in my head about how life would be there and how I would lead it. I imagine a healthy lifestyle, going to the gym regularly, doing really cool stuff, hanging out with somebody who understands me and can share intelligent conversation with me without getting boring or bored. I imagine a lot of things, but I know it's never true. I know I'm going to be running all the time and get stuck in a timeless mindless rut. I know I'm going to miss all things Indian, hate everything Indian-American(or Indian-Australian, as the case may be) and yearn to come back home. I know the grass is always greener on the other side. I know. I know.
Does that mean that I'm already stuck in a timeless mindless rut? I come to work every day of the week, lounge about surfing the net and venting on my blog and then go home to a 'TV dinner' with my room-mate. The 'TV dinner' (comprising watching saved episodes of Prison Break on my laptop) is actually the high point for both of us. Of course, the other high point in his life is the weekends when he gets to meet his long-time girlfriend. I, on the other hand, am trying to do what I did in college. I'm looking at stuff to do on the side, apart from work. So far, I've been decently successful. I've done a play, was rehearsing for another, am training for a 7 km marathon, will be helping a guy with the computerised drum bits for his solo album and will hopefully start a band with him once the album's done. Quite a bit, eh? Well, most of my weekends have been packed, and I've sometimes left home on weekends earlier than I have on weekdays for work. But I want to be able to do all this in the open, without having to hide in the shadows away from work. These activities are the oil that my life runs on. They must become my life.
So, I open the cafe. I write the book. I play the drums for a band. I act in plays and help out in theatre. I do voice-overs (I've done a couple of radio ads in Bangalore in college; I have a deep baritone, you see). I freelance. I write. Now all this becomes a lot easier to do if you have a stable home to back you up. So I will have to move back home (not that I'm complaining). I strengthen my relationship with my parents and family (including my new extended family, hello Manni). Now, I did most of this when I was living at home during my college days. It was nice. It was easy. It was comfortable. Why would I want to upset the apple-cart? Why did I? One of my seniors, from MICA and also from work, quit her job and moved to Bangalore to do almost exactly what I've stated above. She will freelance and she will write her book. That gives me a lot of hope. She has just started out on her journey and I wish her the very best of luck in her brave and noble endeavour. She has no idea how much this means to me. She has now shown me that it is possible to take the step. And as time progresses, she will show me how possible it is to succeed. All my efforts will now be directed at achieving this dream of mine.