Work life balance
I was tired and exhausted. Finally the flight landed at its destination, making me wonder. Why did I come back to this place? Why can’t I have the courage to do what I really want to? The questions constantly made their presence felt. After twenty minutes of waiting and a stacked bus ride, I came out to the terminal. The three hours of flight time felt much smaller, compared to the last twenty minutes. Why does it happen that one can wait a long while, but the last few minutes are the worst ones? Is it because of the anticipation of a surprise? Or is it because the final opportunity of running away is also vanishing?
With cold feet I finally reached the luggage area. Luggage of two flights had been diverted towards the same conveyor belt. People were constantly trying to peep over each other in anticipation. I stood there, just like everyone else. Hoping for a change in my life and for something good to come my way. Hoping for overnight riches and enormous respect. Hoping for great adventures and fulfillment of all my desires. But all that was going to come my way was my luggage. Or should I call it my baggage. A half torn bag, years old and faded. That’s when I noticed this female standing next to me. Probably in her early 30`s, good looking and well dressed. A laptop hung on her shoulders, a book by Ayn Rand in her hands and shades in her hair. Long shoes with a tight pair of body fighting jeans tucked in them. Rebounded hair, shinning, straight and impeccably cut. Suddenly her phone rang. She took her phone out and saw the name on the phone. The smile was natural and nothing in the world could have hidden it.
She picked up the phone and just before she said hello, she hesitated. She was looking down. Finally after gathering a lot of courage she said
With cold feet I finally reached the luggage area. Luggage of two flights had been diverted towards the same conveyor belt. People were constantly trying to peep over each other in anticipation. I stood there, just like everyone else. Hoping for a change in my life and for something good to come my way. Hoping for overnight riches and enormous respect. Hoping for great adventures and fulfillment of all my desires. But all that was going to come my way was my luggage. Or should I call it my baggage. A half torn bag, years old and faded. That’s when I noticed this female standing next to me. Probably in her early 30`s, good looking and well dressed. A laptop hung on her shoulders, a book by Ayn Rand in her hands and shades in her hair. Long shoes with a tight pair of body fighting jeans tucked in them. Rebounded hair, shinning, straight and impeccably cut. Suddenly her phone rang. She took her phone out and saw the name on the phone. The smile was natural and nothing in the world could have hidden it.
She picked up the phone and just before she said hello, she hesitated. She was looking down. Finally after gathering a lot of courage she said
“Hello”
She was about to say something but then she stopped. She was still smiling, but the happiness from her face was gone. It had been changed with a crushing expression of guilt. Every time you will observe someone who is trying to fight tears, you’ll notice they would gulp their own saliva. I don’t know why one does this. Is it because we tend to push down our emerging guilt? Is it because we don’t want to make our remorse evident? Or is it because we suppress the heart ache we get, for not standing for the ones we care for? Finally a tear rolled down from her eye as she spoke
“Hanji shona, shona mummy aa jayingii, aap apna khayal rakhoge na?”
That’s when I realized that she was talking to her child. Probably a two or three year old, who had been left alone? A child who could barely speak, barely understand life, but could certainly interpret the fact that he needed his mother. The very sight of a mother crying, because she had been separated from her child was enough to shake me from inside. The fact that she had been separated by choice, even worse.
“Shona mummy airport reach kar chuki hain, i`ll reach in two hours. Pakka! Acha nani ko phone doon”
And then she spoke to her mother, confirming the health and wellbeing of her own child. That’s when it hit me. How would a mother feel if she dint know what her child has been up to? Whether her child was well or not? Whether her child had even eaten or not? Whether her child has slept or not?
After cutting the phone she took out a tissue and wiped her face. Wiped her guilt and incapability. Wiped her misery and helplessness. Picked up her bag and left.
After she went I pondered upon a few questions. I`d suggest you do the same and try and find some answers which would help you take the most suitable path for you.
If you had to make some compromises with in life, where would you compromise?
In what you do? OR With the ones you do it for?
In how you do it? OR How long you take to do it?
What am I left with when I achieve success? OR Who all am I left with when I achieve success?
I would rather choose to be small? OR I would rather choose to keep my loved ones alone?
I would not let my loved ones to be deprived of anything? OR I will let my loved ones to be deprived of me?
She was about to say something but then she stopped. She was still smiling, but the happiness from her face was gone. It had been changed with a crushing expression of guilt. Every time you will observe someone who is trying to fight tears, you’ll notice they would gulp their own saliva. I don’t know why one does this. Is it because we tend to push down our emerging guilt? Is it because we don’t want to make our remorse evident? Or is it because we suppress the heart ache we get, for not standing for the ones we care for? Finally a tear rolled down from her eye as she spoke
“Hanji shona, shona mummy aa jayingii, aap apna khayal rakhoge na?”
That’s when I realized that she was talking to her child. Probably a two or three year old, who had been left alone? A child who could barely speak, barely understand life, but could certainly interpret the fact that he needed his mother. The very sight of a mother crying, because she had been separated from her child was enough to shake me from inside. The fact that she had been separated by choice, even worse.
“Shona mummy airport reach kar chuki hain, i`ll reach in two hours. Pakka! Acha nani ko phone doon”
And then she spoke to her mother, confirming the health and wellbeing of her own child. That’s when it hit me. How would a mother feel if she dint know what her child has been up to? Whether her child was well or not? Whether her child had even eaten or not? Whether her child has slept or not?
After cutting the phone she took out a tissue and wiped her face. Wiped her guilt and incapability. Wiped her misery and helplessness. Picked up her bag and left.
After she went I pondered upon a few questions. I`d suggest you do the same and try and find some answers which would help you take the most suitable path for you.
If you had to make some compromises with in life, where would you compromise?
In what you do? OR With the ones you do it for?
In how you do it? OR How long you take to do it?
What am I left with when I achieve success? OR Who all am I left with when I achieve success?
I would rather choose to be small? OR I would rather choose to keep my loved ones alone?
I would not let my loved ones to be deprived of anything? OR I will let my loved ones to be deprived of me?
Courtesy: Prabhjit Pahwa
Batch: 2012-14