The folder that’s labelled ‘Book’ stares at me unopened on the desktop right next to the HD icon. The reason for my reinstatement of having some time to myself. For someone who enjoys his own company, believe you me, it can be fun. The ‘Book’ slightly resembling one with some paragraphs kept getting in the way of life, family and work. So one year of myself, at home, I figured gave me the excuse for being officially a ‘House Husband’ and finishing that ‘Book’.
Yes I have pursued my friends in Sri Lanka for opportunities in Colombo. But after seven years in England, working in Colombo will be like a holiday for me. Colombo: getting to work in air conditioned comfort driven by someone else, rice and curry lunches, power naps, no buses or trains, long weekends and the best of all the people.
As the kid prepares to flee the coop (I shall get back to her later), I prepare with difficulty to re-pursue my passion for Sri Lanka and Marketing Communications. Anyone who knows me well will know that when I have the tendency, well liked by employers, for my work to become my life. Where at one time my friends would call office and not home for the better chance of catching me was, in office.
My love for the motherland of course is unquestionable. Like Moses and the Ten Commandments.
Getting back to the kid, today morning wasn’t the usual hoi polloi as school started late and I have no reason to run for the train anymore. The fact that she’s a senior in sixth form means she needs to attend school only at the times she has classes. So we’re chatting away as usual, Radio 3 on the tunes giving calm vibes to my driving, and not talking about what is there glaring in our faces but must not be talked about anymore. She does not want to do medicine anymore. With the UCAS applications going out at the end of this month for Oxbridge, she turns around and calmly informs her mother and I that she no longer wishes to pursue medicine as a career choice. She might like to take a gap year to see South Korea and Japan.
Back then to the present, however disappointed, I feel that pride I always get watching her getting out of the car, waving to me, and walking to the school. There is no greater love a dad feels (soppy but true) than watching your kid going to school. Their confidence, head up high, almost skipping not walking, hair swinging from side to side (sorry again, sounds like a bad shampoo/tampon commercial) fills you with pride.
But at the same time when she makes her first big decision in life a bad one, what do you do as a father.
Everyone says I’ll get over it. This is something she and I planned together since she started kindergarten. It’s hard. I know her decisions are hers to make, but it bloody hurts.
Book, Sri Lanka or both? Both are the same.
Go back to the grind and live a life underground, 5.30am – midnight? But in London no?
None of the above? Just curl up and wait for inevitable death, wishing it would come faster?
That sounds inviting.
On a related subject, loafed around the Mini Cooper showroom for ages (bucket list – own one) recently. This beauty in turquoise blue with the classic mini cooper white stripes stood ready warm and inviting. We found each other and soon I was pushing all her buttons. Then the smart chick from the showroom made a really stupid comment – ‘Lots of guys your age love this car’. Exit Dhammika.
Is this my mid-life crisis? Was I ever a chick magnet? Did they imagine that?