home

Mantra
One of the best advice I got before leaving London was, "do not go home and be that kid you once were 7 years ago." Although a little vague, I can't deny it's relevance. I think it means that I'm a big girl now and I'm capable of making my own decisions. I guess when you've been brought up and surrounded by authoritarians all your life, you tend to forget that you're entitled to such a right. And often I compromise that right in fear of disobeying the authoritarians.

She has probably seen enough, heard enough or she sees more coming - hence the words of wisdom? Those words have been my mantra lately - hey I need to do what I can to ensure my sanity stays intact and my right is duly exercised. So if you see me on the streets, chanting some gibberish and getting into some sort of a trance, let me be - that's just me giving myself the occassional reminder.

Sahur conversations
At home, sahur is the noisiest time of day. So much to talk about, so much to laugh about. Sigh, dad and his stupid jokes. But somehow, our sahur conversations have become a little heavy as of late. Early this morning, my dad dropped it like a bomb. So where do you see yourself in the next 10 years? How do you answer something like that? If it was an interview, surely I could fudge something up, but coming from my dad!? I didn't answer it too well, fumbled and paused a lot. I think dad grew impatient and it was within that few minutes of waiting, that he decided that it was acceptable to plan my next 10 years for me.

I want you to become the [insert job title - say bean-counter for the purpose of this entry]. Not any bean-counter, THE bean-counter.

Stumped.

Aaahhh, don't you just love that feeling? The feeling of being robbed off of your ability to choose and decide and being set a lifetime goal by somebody else? Pfft, forget what I want and what I believe in. Forget those years where I've demonstrated independence and my ability to think for myself. Only yesterday, I was getting excited about life, thinking the world's my oyster and my life's a super drugstore, being spoilt for choice and all that bullshit. And then bam! Came this brick wall ahead of me which rendered all of that irrelevant. Only 6 days in, and I already have much to not look forward to.

And no, I didn't argue with him. You never argue with an authoritarian. I lost my appetite to eat and for many hours after that, I found myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense out of what was said. Trying to decide what is best for my future. But wait a minute, that's already been done for me.

I started chanting the mantra. Over and over again, until the morning rays started to pierce through my bedroom curtains. And then, finally I fell asleep.