Height of Disorientation
The exterior reason for me for making a haste decision of coming to India for my Masters degree was to upgrade my qualifications so that I will be able to climb up the professional ladder, which is known to my acquaintances but my beloved ones and close friends are aware of the fact that I badly wanted to get out my country at any cost. The minimal scholarship stipends and the very same country where I pursued my undergrad couldn't stop me from viewing this as a perfect opportunity to get my hairy arse out of the place, where I was walking around like a zombie. Of course, I grew to love the concrete house that I turned into cozy home with my ex live-in partner for more than a year and half, the workplace filled with overly enthusiastic students of mine and very supportive colleagues from whom I have had gained endless knowledge shaping me into respectable and wiser person , and my childhood place where I was born and brought up with my parent's unconditional love and inappropriate pampering at this age. I had everything that any ordinary person on this planet would ever wish to have; the dream job, loving, caring, and supportive family, good friends, and very stable and fulfilling life.
Every fairy tale doesn't end with happily ever after. Likewise, life played a very tragic game with me. When problem comes in life, it never arrives with an announcement and it tends to come in multitudes. When I decided to come to India for my studies, I was at the lowest of low point of my life. My personal life was jeopardized and I sunk into major depression for almost a year, turning me into a person whom I could barely recognize the reflection that I saw in the mirror. I turned into a daughter who would avoid calls from her overly-concerned parents. My sibling's frequent visits to my empty house to boost my morale was seen as intrusion of my personal life and met with the lack of appreciation, gratitude, and acknowledgment. Countless weeks and months of being depressed made me burst into tears for no apparent reason while I am alone. No leisure activities could give me any amusement and pleasure as it used to. My parents and loved ones were partly aware of the state that I was in but I built a strong indestructible wall around me thus preventing people from helping me. At that very sensitive phase of my life, I said, 'YES' to what I call as 'An-opportunity-to-be-in-new-place-where-I-can-start-over-my-life-with-strangers-who-don't-know-a-fucking-thing-about-me.' My well-wishers tried their best to stop me from making this haste decision but their efforts were futile.
A part of me always knew that I have the required skills, abilities, and knowledge to pursue my postgrad in any other country with varied and wider exposure that I could benefit for lifetime but the only thing that I lacked was 'PATIENCE to WAIT.' I didn't want to be, not even for a single second, in the place where the life that I have nurtured with diligence has crashed right in front of me. The incident of me seeing it all going down in million pieces with my naked and helpless eyes was the breaking point that I decided that no matter what it takes but I will leave the place, even if it is for brief period of time. I know I can't run away from my roots. I have to return where I belong.
In the meantime, in the new place with new people, I realize that there is no escape from what I am running from. The old memories that I buried deep down comes out in the form of silent and invisible tears which doesn't require any triggering factor. At times, I wake up in the middle of the night because of the nightmare that I get from the monsters that I have failed to kill from my past. Being away from home filled with familiar people on whom I can rely without a feeling of doubt and shame is extremely difficult for a woman who have been taken care like a princess by her parents, loved unconditionally, and pampered beyond her age by her loved ones. Yet, the thing that keeps me going is the fact that I don't have to face my ghosts from my past in person and I can avoid being constantly reminded of the fact that my life has reached to the point of 'damaged-beyond-repair' by seeing familiar places and people.
I have my share of misfortunes after my arrival here with the new height of being demotivated as a student, sudden demise of my maternal aunt (may her soul rest in peace), daily struggle of not being able to stand people, forget about interacting with people I can't even fake a smile to people, missing most of the important events back home, both auspicious and inauspicious, strong feelings of guilt for not being able to be home when my family needed me the most, and finally this never-ending longing to see my parents, the four kids whom I love with my heart (darling niece, nephew, god-son, and god-daughter), siblings, relatives, friends, and colleagues. But this is the price I have pay for running away.
Let me end this piece of writing with few questions which has been hovering over my mind ever since I arrived here;
During my stay here with strangers and as I complete my postgrad, hopefully I find answers to the aforementioned questions with the entrance to the second stage of my runaway project of two years.
Every fairy tale doesn't end with happily ever after. Likewise, life played a very tragic game with me. When problem comes in life, it never arrives with an announcement and it tends to come in multitudes. When I decided to come to India for my studies, I was at the lowest of low point of my life. My personal life was jeopardized and I sunk into major depression for almost a year, turning me into a person whom I could barely recognize the reflection that I saw in the mirror. I turned into a daughter who would avoid calls from her overly-concerned parents. My sibling's frequent visits to my empty house to boost my morale was seen as intrusion of my personal life and met with the lack of appreciation, gratitude, and acknowledgment. Countless weeks and months of being depressed made me burst into tears for no apparent reason while I am alone. No leisure activities could give me any amusement and pleasure as it used to. My parents and loved ones were partly aware of the state that I was in but I built a strong indestructible wall around me thus preventing people from helping me. At that very sensitive phase of my life, I said, 'YES' to what I call as 'An-opportunity-to-be-in-new-place-where-I-can-start-over-my-life-with-strangers-who-don't-know-a-fucking-thing-about-me.' My well-wishers tried their best to stop me from making this haste decision but their efforts were futile.
A part of me always knew that I have the required skills, abilities, and knowledge to pursue my postgrad in any other country with varied and wider exposure that I could benefit for lifetime but the only thing that I lacked was 'PATIENCE to WAIT.' I didn't want to be, not even for a single second, in the place where the life that I have nurtured with diligence has crashed right in front of me. The incident of me seeing it all going down in million pieces with my naked and helpless eyes was the breaking point that I decided that no matter what it takes but I will leave the place, even if it is for brief period of time. I know I can't run away from my roots. I have to return where I belong.
In the meantime, in the new place with new people, I realize that there is no escape from what I am running from. The old memories that I buried deep down comes out in the form of silent and invisible tears which doesn't require any triggering factor. At times, I wake up in the middle of the night because of the nightmare that I get from the monsters that I have failed to kill from my past. Being away from home filled with familiar people on whom I can rely without a feeling of doubt and shame is extremely difficult for a woman who have been taken care like a princess by her parents, loved unconditionally, and pampered beyond her age by her loved ones. Yet, the thing that keeps me going is the fact that I don't have to face my ghosts from my past in person and I can avoid being constantly reminded of the fact that my life has reached to the point of 'damaged-beyond-repair' by seeing familiar places and people.
I have my share of misfortunes after my arrival here with the new height of being demotivated as a student, sudden demise of my maternal aunt (may her soul rest in peace), daily struggle of not being able to stand people, forget about interacting with people I can't even fake a smile to people, missing most of the important events back home, both auspicious and inauspicious, strong feelings of guilt for not being able to be home when my family needed me the most, and finally this never-ending longing to see my parents, the four kids whom I love with my heart (darling niece, nephew, god-son, and god-daughter), siblings, relatives, friends, and colleagues. But this is the price I have pay for running away.
Let me end this piece of writing with few questions which has been hovering over my mind ever since I arrived here;
- Is it possible for me to run away for good?
- Is it healthy for me to keep on running away?
- Am I running away from the ghosts and monsters from my past, OR am I running away from myself?
- What is the assurance that I might not bump into things that I am running away from?
- Is changing place and being hush-hush about my identity plus nightmarish past the most appropriate way to get over it?
- And finally, how will I gather the courage to go back?
During my stay here with strangers and as I complete my postgrad, hopefully I find answers to the aforementioned questions with the entrance to the second stage of my runaway project of two years.
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