More on moving

I crave change when I am "settled". I crave so much that it really, really messes up my perspective. I love Bangalore. I am going to miss it. And yet, I am glad that there are a million things about this place that I will NOT miss. I have spoken about them way too many times on this blog alone. So change, I guess, is a good thing.

I am also no longer extremely paranoid about finding a job. Of course I will. I mean it's just a job. And then there are things I can do just in case I manage to stay unemployed. Like write a book I will not add to the crowd of badly written books by bored people looking for quick money. It is a matter of principle... Become a travel writer Who will pay me for it? Have children and become meaningfully employed and call myself an awesome mom who gave up her career to bring up her children No way in hell. Boredom and unemployment are the worst reasons to have children. How can I even think about this? Watch TV all day Why not! Spend my days in the pursuit of weight loss. Play, swim, run. Boring, boring, boring. Buy an awesome camera and go around town clicking photographs I am not a photographer. I photograph for memories, not because I am obscenely interested in the art. So I can try this, but I know already that this is not going to replace being gainfully employed. So I guess I will just find a job. I am too mediocre to have a higher calling. If you know anybody who does anything remotely connected to media and communication in Malaysia, you know where to find me. No, I will not embarrass you. I am quite awesome like that. Hard selling is a newfound habit I will need to get rid of as soon I can afford to.

I have been selling stuff like crazy. I should have been a salesperson. Better still, I should have been a pioneer of e commerce in India. Man, I have incredible patience with phone calls and unending enthusiasm to write long emails and "crisp" Craigslist entries. How did we survive without internet?

I have said this before and I am saying it again. I am a middle class Indian in India and that's the maximum amount of freedom I can hope to have in this lifetime. All the documentation, endorsements, filing is making me a little claustrophobic. Dad of course is having his last laugh. Filing documents is his idea of Sunday afternoon entertainment. What I am saying is that I don't really mind rules as long as I don't HAVE to follow them. Think of it like this. Most kids would study so much better if their parents did not threaten to deport (punish I mean) them if they didn't. I will hopefully learn to live with it. Or come back sooner that I do.

I have been asked why we are selling off everything when we will need all of it no matter where we live and we don't even have to bear the cost of moving this stuff. Here's the thing. What is exciting me MOST about this move is the uncertainty, the opportunity to start afresh. To land in another country with a suitcase full of clothes and maybe a pressure cooker, and then finding a new house, new stuff, new car, new job, bargaining hard, figuring out life from scratch all over again. What's not to like? No, seriously. I am very excited!

And the lows are now restricted to a few moments that I guess I will forget soon. Like last evening when some random guy picked up our bike. He paid us for it alright, but it was our bike. Our Sunday night hawaakhori ride. I am going to miss it. Although I never rode it. Other than that I have realized that I am not a very sentimental person. I am being quite the Capricorn about this. I make my peace with things like these sooner than I think I will. By the time R gets around to consoling me, I am already thinking about the next thing to sell. And half heartedly, impatiently consoling him. He is the "love me, love my speakers, love my car" among the two of us. Our marriage is still not old. There are still these small surprises. Thank God for small mercies.

I am rambling of course.

In the middle of this selling-filing-documenting-giving up-handing over-endorsing-ticketing madness, I am off to the hills next weekend. To Wayanad. This one's going to be our last road trip in our (technically, the husband's) shiny red, obsessively maintained Getz. (I have got to stop saying "obsessively maintained" now that it is already sold.) And one that I am going to remember for a long, long time.

Here's to looking ahead.