It has nearly been a month since that dreaded night, and several things have turned on me. It seems to be life’s way of letting me know that all things, good and bad, come in multiple small packages, and eerily, all at the same time.
I always found that the best way to fight off misery is work. I could strain myself completely at work and make sure that I forget everything that has gone wrong. Somehow, fate had a different stick to poke in my meandering spoke. A couple of weeks back, when I was still on my leave, I got an email from my company. Talks of recession had been loitering in company circles for quite some time now; I had assumed it to be a phase that would simply pass over. Naïve, as usual. It didn’t. I had been asked to take two months pay and quit my job. Same for all other employees who joined this year.
It has become the worst tragedies young men like me have to face. Stepping out independently into this world for probably the first time, and we had already stumbled head first into the ground. I don’t know if this is a phase everyone will have to phase, what I’ve come to describe as a ‘mid-mid-life crisis’. To make matters worse, I’ve very little saved up from my earnings, and therefore in this period will have to live with my parents. It is one thing to live with them for 21 years, yet another feeling altogether to do that when you’ve lost your job.
Some of my friends suggested I look for another job. At turbulent times like these, there isn’t much out there for people like me who have just stepped out of college. To be honest, I didn’t really try. I’ve had my fair share of failure for some time now, and any more in this ensuing period will only break my spirit more. I waited, without work, without love and without anyone for guidance- for a sign. Some signal from the gods, letting me know that now I will have to make a move, that I will have to make plans and get out of this place I’ve got myself into.
Meanwhile, I look haggard, it’s been weeks since I last shaved and I can’t really recall if I took a bath recently. I had acquired a rather scornful belly that seemed to drag me deeper into the hell I was already in. I was aware of my situation and yet, it was status quo. Nothing changed around me, I changed nothing about me. People’s looks were starting to annoy me, even the ones that seemed to have sympathy for a guy who’s just lost his job. I started doubting my decision to stay with my parents. It’ll only make things worse for them when neighbors and friends start asking questions about my extended stay.
I needed something that could dissolve this pain. Alcohol seems to be a good solvent. I gave it a try. Not my cup of tea. Not my peg of whisky rather. A few drinks and a few days later, I realized that I didn’t like it all that much. Besides, I was running out of saved up cash and could not afford more of this ‘solvency’. The grapes were sour alright. Nope, whisky was not for me.
So, I tried something else. Cigarettes- they were cheap, the effect lasted a while and it was readily available at common stores. I personally cannot come to see how someone can like smoking. I tried, I really tried to like smoking. It would give me something to do and would temporarily help me lilt my worries out with a puff, or so I thought. Any relief was but temporary, and I had to go back to it again, for shorter intervals between puffs or for a stronger brand. This was not helping too. I’d officially landed at a place where nothing I did, could ever change the things around me. Meanwhile, the wait for the signals from the gods has intensified with growing impatience, and haunting loneliness. I had started speaking aloud with myself, lost track of time when I sat down to think, and would start playing an old compilation reel of memories in my mind whenever I could.
I was crumbling, more now than ever. Life as I knew it had done a “Maya” on me and officially turned its back. I realized recently that people can be associated with actions much like verbs. Although this discovery was startling and enlightening at the same time, it didn’t really provide much to chew on except for a few minutes of self-proclaimed brilliance.
Then it happened. On a day that I can’t recall, just like other days, when I was sitting and brooding over my misery with numerous mail checks and online job-loser forums, I got a call.
“Hello”
“Hello! Andy! What are you up to bro?” asked a familiar voice.
“I’m ok”, I mumbled, forgetting the question asked, “I’m sorry. Who’s this?”
“It’s Abhi. What’s wrong? You don’t seem well” said the voice.
“Abhi! So sorry! I have a bad headache since morning, can’t seem to shake it off. What’s up?”
“I’ve got the cure to your headache my friend. A road trip! Rags, Akki and I are planning a 4-day road trip beginning next Thursday. We’ve got leave for some public holidays and the weekend all clubbed together. We’ve got lots of places in mind. Are you free?”
There are times when I lose my faith in the human intellect, this was one of them. Of course I was free. What else would I be? I’m jobless and ergo, free.
“Yeah, I’m free. I’ll come.” I mumbled again.
“Great! I’ll mail you some of the other details; we can plan the places to span out the trip online.” said Abhi audibly enthused.
“Yeah, ok.”
“Bye, Andy”
“Bye.”
The call ends. I’m still holding the phone trying to make some sense of what had just happened. My friends, who I’d presumed had forgotten me, just called me for a 4-day road trip. They were getting a respite from work, and someone among them had initiated this brilliant scheme. I did not know whether it was a good or a bad plan, but around here, any kind of news had ‘good’ written all over it, for it meant change.
Several mails were passed among us. A week or so later, some headway had been made. The date had been decided, the places marked out, the rental car had been booked. Excitement for the trip was on par with the very first time one drove a bicycle over a certain distance. It was new, it was fulfilling, you felt like a grown up with the excitement of a kid all rolled into one movable package. The others were itching for a break from work; I was itching from the recent lack of hygiene as well the prospect of spending time away from my drab routine.
I did not know what to expect from this trip. All I knew was that I wanted to leave my present self on the road somewhere on this trip. I wanted to come home to normalcy, to life as I knew it. This trip, I hoped and even prayed, would do that for me.
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