OMG OMG OMG/ The company I interviewed with for an intern position wants to hire me FULL-FREAKING TIME as a SENIOR ACCOUNT executive. OMG OMG OMG.

This has to be some sort of dream. The question I was afraid to answer until yesterday demands an answer right now. This is surreal. This morning I was just bemoaning how I was going to make ends meet with my meagre freelancer's pay, especially with the new apartment costs and subsequent costs. And here in my email box is the offer.
I will vacillate, I will ponder, I will ask for umpteen opinions but deep down I know I have already accepted the position. I wonder if I should feel like I sold my soul- but no. I haven't accepted this position for the money, heck, I don't even know how much they are offering me right now. But I DO know, even though I may not get to write/write, I am going to enjoy this job very much.

I have to be pretty darned good if they are jumping me over two positions and hiring me as a senior ex, when I interviewed for only an internship. My dad's advice, take it, writing is something you can always get back to. He is right. Besides, I started my other blog as an outlet to write and it can continue to be that. This job is just so exciting-- I will be working on re-branding and image strategy for retail companies that aren't making enough profits. It involves traveling (yoohoo!) research (yay!) definitely writing and giving presentations, to convince the client that I WILL indeed help them generate more business.

Whatever said and done, the relief of knowing that I will have a steady paycheck coming in every two weeks and that I will have a fixed office space for atleast more than a year, is uncompared to anything else. I don't want to count my chickens befor they hatch but what the hell, I'm allowed to feel a little good about myself and this unexpected but pleasant turn!!

I will continue my writing gigs with a couple mags but I will cut down on all the "free-work" I do.

AHhhh. that was the longest exhale of my life!!

Turns out, the job lead I had was false :P The guy I applied to - -quit the next day! And the company is a dud. Oh well. I had my hopes high... but thats okay now. Today I had an excellent interview with a brand management/marketing firm. And they made me an excellent offer. We haven't discussed money, you should know me better by now that although I love money, (who doesn't) , I don't think money. The offer basically outlines very satisfying work, tons of reseach, writing and going out there and getting business. The job description was incredibly exciting but....
what about being a writer? a journalist? a reporter?

People of my generation aren't happy with just one career. Everyone's juggling multiple interests and passions. While writing will always remain number one on my list, marketing/product developement is something I realize,I am innately good at. The question remains -- should I leverage this talent to my advantage or should I opt out and continue digging writing opportunities.

R suggested- why not both? Why give up one for other? The thing is, marketing/PR and journalism are two ends of a spectrum and having a foot in both wouldn't lend me much credibility. But if I manage to carefully siphon out the two interests and pluck out my exact involvement in both so that none represents a conflict of interests, it may just work.

The amazing thing is, if I decide to join this company full-time, I don't even need to go to their office everyday. They are big on working virtually and I could be situated anywhere in the world and still be working for them. I don't think I will ever move back to Philadelphia though- once you big goodbye to a place to move on, there is no point in going back. But the option would still grant me flexibility that may come in handy anytime!

Y'know, sometimes it feels like when God closes one door, he opens another. I did feel a little guilty about feeling happy for this job offer-- I asked myself, what about my dream.. waht will happen to it, but the truth is, as we grow, so do our dreams. Right now what would be utterly wrong for me is to close the door on any opportunity that presents itself in hopes of savinng my years, struggle and dreams for that elusive goal I set for myself when I was 16. What would be the right thing for me, is to go with the flow and say yes to every prmosing opportunity and worry about it when it's really the time to worry about it. Like when they are soo happy with me that they are offering me 70K/year and a parternship in the firm. Then, I can sit and worry about my career as a writer.

Regardless, I am very happy with this advancement in my career-- wherever it may lead me, it is just the begining.

But I've learnt something : We are only 22/23... we have so much more to experience, see and learn before we even know what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Having a rigid vision doesn't help, nor does it help to have a flaky vision of your own future. It is a delicate balance.. knowing where to draw the line and knowing where its okay to stretch the line. Today I also had a meeting with a very senior level editor who was in PR for 8 years before she entered journalism. She was in her early 30's when she started her career as a journalist-- and I'm only 22. If I don't experiment now- when will I? If I don't challenge myself now, immerse myself in everything that I think I'm capable of, when will I? Now is the time. Only now.

Oh today when I was walking back to work, waiting to cross the road at 8th ave, a man walked up to me and apologized first and then said, I just want to say you are very beautiful Utterly gorgeous.
And then he walked away.

:)

I finally got an apartment! In Hoboken, it's a beautiful, beautiful place- remniscent of the 90's Paris. Tiny bars, curious shops and wide spaces. I love it. I have my own bedroom with an attached bathroom. It costs a fortune but it is impossible to find anything cheaper in or around NY without compromising on security, area and space. I will move in 1st of April and I'm absolutely thrilled.

I've been aggressively hunting for projects after May. No luck yet but I've had some leads. There is a job opening- just the right kind for me. I applied for the job today and I have my fingers crossed and a strategy laid out. I feel a little burned out though. Every day at work feels like a failure if I don't get atleast one more lead. But I think good times are ahead. I believe good times are ahead. Just having the apartment issue sorted has made my head clearer.

On everything else, I'm pretty confident that slowly...but surely, I'll continue getting more writing assignments. It has been such a ride. Oh! My sister and me spoke. We had a real conversation in years. And we made a pact to spend atleast half an hour alone every weekend when I return to Philly. I am so happy. It takes ttwo to tango, and she showed me where I had gone wrong. I needed to hear that.. just as much as I needed to know she loved me and wanted our relationship to work.

Touchwood.

Next on my agenda is, to breathe. I often feel like I'm trying to catch the next train... even when I am on a train. I want to feel numb in my head, numb with relaxation. Even as I write here, my manner is brisk and quick, as though I am in a time-crunch. Slowly, that too will come.

Inshallah!

Following your dream can be so difficult sometime. I just met with a reporter at **** magazine. To write for that magazine would be an ultimate dream. Only, I'd have to be an intern to do that. They do not hire freelancers, nor are they hiring anyone right now. And with magazines, who knows when they'll need someone full-time. I was told that I should send in my resume regardless and that the reporter would put in a favorable word for me and have be considered for the Internship Program.

Its a catch 22. I don't know if I can afford an internship program. I don't know if I can afford to live on $6/hour for 3 months. But to deny this opportunity may be someone else's fortune. Sometimes I think, I wonder-- if I had never changed my major, if I was still stuck to b-school, I'd be making $1500 a week. I'd be rich. Unhappy, but rich.

Right now, the fact that I don't have a place of my own. That I'm stil living out of a suitcase at my cousins and out of a closet at my sister's pisses me off. And yet, I know with the way my job situation and work life is working out -- It is wise to save as much money as I can. I still don't have health insurance. Although my parents think I do. I have almost found a place but for $700/month, I am not sure I can afford it.

Sometimes, no matter how much further I go- It always feels like I'm back to square one. Sleeping on someone else's sofa, eating out of someone else's plate and using someone else's shower. Nothing is tangibly mine or something I pay for. Ofcourse, the genorisity of family can never be paid for. but this is a hapless torture I can change nothing about.

But someone once said, "I tried to walk without a dream and I fell down." May as well have been me.

My ex-professor invited me to a seminar she is organizing for young 12-18 year old women. She wants me to be on a panel to inspire these girls. I balked at the mere thought of standing on the podium, not much older than these girls, trying to inspire them. But my teacher thinks I have a story that I should share. I'm still not sure exactly what about me is so inpsiring but I feel very honored to think that my professor thinks so. And I guess even if I end up impacting the thoughts of one person out of the room, It will be worth it.

I have two interviews this week. One is in about an hour and the other is tomorrow. I need some work after May -- I hope something works out.

So I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Just about life and money and career and my family. My Dad's brother, my kaka, needs dialysis every week or so. His health is deterioating...and is beyond anyone to do something. I think they are looking for a kidney transplant but haven't found a right match yet. I don't call my relatives often...not because I don't like them because it just never occured to me that the people I grew up with are growing older and older day after day. My Baa died last year. I hadn't seen her in 2.5 years and I had just reached Bbay after graduation. She was doing fine, she was well. But she slipped and broke her hip and never got better. In the ICU room, I was alone with her for a few minutes when my Mom went outside to fetch her sons. She wanted to talk to her sons. I held her frail hand and she squeezed it so tightly that my heart awoke and I knew she'd be alright. She had so much strength.. she held my hand so tight. I just knew she'd be fine. But she didn't. She died the next morning. I cried when I saw other people around me crying. I cried when I saw my Dad break down. When my Dad's oldest brother broke down. But I didn't feel her loss.. I didn't know she was gone. How could I know? I hadn't been around her for five years to miss her after she was gone. And sadly, much of my growing up had happened in those years.

I went to the cremetorium with the men. The women in my family questioned my decision and the men in my family asked my parents to change their mind. But my Dad stood up for me. And said I should be there if I wanted to. I followed the men when they carried her body outside the building to the ambulance. I got into the ambulance with my Dad and I remember placing my hand on her head because I didn't want her to feel the bumps on the road. Her skin was like stone. But she had a smile on her lips. A smile frozen in time. We reached the cremetorium near Pawan Hans in 10 minutes. My father asked me stand outside until he called me in. I respected his wishes and waited outside making small talk with my uncle. It was a hot day. We smelt of smoke. My neck felt sticky with grime. Then my Dad called me and I went inside. My Baa was already lost underneath the wood. They lit her. And I watched asking curious questions. To something I asked my Dad replied, the skull takes the longest to melt. And I bit back my lips to contain my tears.

Words floated around. She's not my Baa.. she's just a dead body. I remembered reading that when someone dies, immediately they lose 27 grams, the weight of their soul. I wondered if that was true. The fire smelt strange. Not disgusting.. I couldn't smell the flesh burning. But it smelt different. I sat in the pews and talked to my other Kakas. (My dad has 4 brothers) I felt like I wanted to be their pillar of strength. To lean on. I think I really went to the crematorium for my father. I wanted to be there for him. My father has always called me his son. When my parents die, I will light fire to their bodies.

The rest of my vacation passed by as though nothing had happened. Occasionally I'd remember her.. or think of calling her and then remember she's dead. Even after I came to Philly.... sometimes I'd ask mom, how's baa and we'd both get quiet. After that... I got news of several other relatives who died of old age.

Its such a hard reality to come to terms with. The mortality of my own parents looms ahead in the distant future. I will get married in some years.. life will go on as it is supposed to. But I really want my parents around me now... or I want to be around my parents. I have decided to save up $10,000 by the end of this year and clear my credit card debt and buy a house by next year. A condo, an apt ..whatever. But buy it. Make a home.

I've been living out of a suitcase.. switching apartments for so long now... I want firm roots now. I want a place thats mine. In the last5 years alone, I've had 8 places of residence. There's been no consistency , no stability and I crave for it now. I will still wander.. travel as and when I want, but I'll always know that I have a place to go back to that's mine alone.

Families and people don't realize that in their stupid efforts to protect one another, they actually end up hurting the other. Often the hurt runs deeper than you can fathom.
My sister got diagonesed with sinus arrythmia. I looked it up, it is not serious. She may have to spend a day at the hospital. A month ago, she spoke to my cousin (the one I am staying with now) that she was feeling a shortness in breath. My cousin, a doctor, advised her to go to a hospital and get a check up done. The hospital did an ECG and the results came back sometime last week that identified sinis arrythmia told my sister that she needed to monitor it.

So my sister called me at work right now and told me this. She said she spoke to my cousin and my cousin thought that my dad and myself should know this now. I didn't freak out or say anything. I hung up.

Who gave my cousin the right to decide when my sister should tell me this news? I have been staying with my cousin for over 2 months now. She never once told me anything. Didn't even tell me that your sister feels shortness of breath, you may want to check up on her about that.

When my cousins dad was getting a by-pass surgery in India, she was here in philly. Everyone, including my parents decided to lie to her so that she wouldn't worry. Only I thought it was wrong. I called her and told her to come to India asap and that her dad might have to get a bypass. I TOLD HER BECAUSE SHE DESERVED TO KNOW, IT WAS HER FATHER.

I DESERVE TO KNOW IF MY SISTER IS NOT FEELING WELL. SHE IS MY SISTER.

I don't know how I will go home and face her tonight. I wont' be able to look into her eye. Because she lied to me. She has been lying to me since the last month. She broke my trust.

I have been crying since I put the phone down. I called up my Dad and he tried to act as if nothing happened coz he doesn't want to tell mom. He waits for this perfect time to talk about everything coz he thinks my mom can't handle some stuff. Like the fact I'm dating a mallu and am thinking about marrying him. Or like the fact that my sister's heartbeat is a little weird, but she's fine because it is very normal.

My fukin family doesn't realize that these betrayls hurt more than their stupid notion of trying to protect others. This is so fucked up. SO fucked up.

Oh yeah, today is also my 2 year anninversary with R. Here, lets toast it.

This is jsut what I needed to know, to gauge the extent of my relationship with my sister. Her fukin boyfriend prolly went with her to the hospital when she got an ECG done. But she won't tell her own sister.

I've never felt this strong dislike towards my family. I don't want to understand their fucked up reasons. All I know is, if they were in my shoes, they'd be just as hurt as I am. And maybe for a second, they deserve to be in my shoes.

There is nothing more painful than knowing you were in the dark when you thought it was light. There is nothing more painful than discovering an existing truth unknown to you.

***

Today I had a dream that R was getting ready to marry someone else and I was secretly relieved and heart-broken at the same time. And I was throwing things at people who were trying to interfere with the way I dealt with that pain.

***

We Indians give too much credit to our families. We don't have the balls to stand up to our parents and tell them you are blody wrong and accept your mistakes. I don't have those guts as well. My parents call me everyday. Every single day and are offended if I don't talk to them for a few days at a stretch. I've been dying to tell them to not call me everyday , to call me on the weekends but I don't have the fukin guts to do that.

***

I don't have the space or time for anyone in my life right now.

***
My family sucks.