Living alone

Not more can one wish for ‘being independent’ and ‘all on own’.

As I sit in my balcony, on a hot Sunday afternoon, after a massive power outrage stretched since last night; I try to find comfort in a warm gush of air that too seems to have lost its way. I have yet not mustered the courage to start with pending weekend-domestic work rituals, and my mind is wheeling onto the wagon of ‘whys’ and ‘what-ifs’ that have tagged along in this journey of adulting. Yes, adulting; enforced upon me by my first-time job and living completely on my own.

There are good days when I feel like I truly am the driver of my life. But in this initial, hectic stage, there are also evenings lying in bed with utmost bewilderment and despair. The latter case rests on physical and mental fatigue, which instills loneliness. The nature of my job is such that there is no office work, hence no office colleagues, and hence, no social circle one forms in a new job. The classic case of ‘you are truly on your own, even when your introverted self wants to socialise, you have nowhere to go to’.

Memories of college in Shillong serve as a temporary escape occasionally. More than often, We don’t value things when we have them, do we? The loneliness bothers me mostly when I come back early, or when I am not at the best of my health. I remember home, and how we take ‘homeliness’ for granted. How we grow up, little saplings into young trees. Seemingly ‘ready’ and ‘expected’ to face the storms. Maybe it’s for the good. Maybe, the more we live in comfort zones, the more we hamper our ability to outgrow ourselves every spring of life and bear fruits.

Considering this is going to instil the much anticipated confidence and skillset, I am taking one day at a time.

Until next,