This time, last year…

This time, last year I was dumber than I now am. A lot more touchy-feely, depressed as hell because I was soon to graduate and mad with joy because a certain someone I didn’t like was getting fucked. In short, I was my normal me, I was happy. If I had any idea that eight months down the line, I would be teaching, TEACHING at Joseph’s, I would have told you to “Shut your ass” (full on Koothrapalli style)

I was less mad, less enthusiastic, more shy and definitely more obsessed and possessed than ever.

Graduation happened like a dream. Things went smooth. I joined some dumb ass Yoga class, they made me stretch and bend like a frigging wire. I wound up with low bp, fell sick and cursed. I got myself my first job in Mysore. That was a bust. Owing to some miscalculated horror some odd 25 years ago, a couple “did it” and I was born 9 months later. And that’s why I couldn’t stick with my Mysore job. Got dragged back to lala land,  did some depressed-patient drama for about a month. Found myself another job, relaxed there for another  two months or so. Made sexy contacts. Went to Pondicherry to celebrate a big event that happened 7 years before. Came back to lala land, went back to dullness.

And then things started to look up. I cleared NET and before I knew it, my life was re-organizing itself and all I could do was stand and look, wide-mouthed, the way Jack sparrow did when the weird sea creatures took his ship to the shore.

                                                                     
                                                       Pretty much sums up my reaction when life suddenly became terrific

                                         I didn’t even find the energy in me to feel happy for myself on my 24th Birthday. Because all the energy was directed at pinching myself to keep me from gloating loudly.

And since November 20, 2012, my life has drastically changed. I LOVE what I am doing right now. This is the absolute high point of my life. I love who I have become. I love that I’m not what I used to be. I love it even more that I don’t remember who I used to be.

The only nagging worry now is that it will all be taken away from me.

Because I am not prepared to lose what I can only call, the phase and place in my life that has finally shown me who I am and what I am capable of. I am no longer afraid of my weaknesses. I push myself to work on them when confronted.

And beyond everything, beyond all the mundane ritual of loving myself and other such bull crap, I love my schedule right now. I love my routine. I love my students. I love getting to work early. I love waking up early to get to my work. Just the thought of my table in the department, talking, laughing, dancing in the department lights up my face. Just the thought of conversations with the ‘happy child’ lifts my spirits and I cannot seem to contain myself.

Here I am, sitting on my bed, feeling happy, thinking about the door of the Department of English, the key to which is safely tucked away in my bag. And you know what is so thrilling about my tomorrows? The promise of the smell of dusty old books locked overnight which greets me at 8:40 every morning. That’s my regular dose of caffeine. And I wish, I hope to death that, that be one image, one promise that I carry to my bed every night before I sleep.

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