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?
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