“My Story…” 

I am bemused by the idea of “my story”, as I stand by the window looking at the tree outside. A giant beauty! ‘Mystery of Love’ is playing on loop in the background while I wait for the moon to rise. 

My story… Let me start by telling you this: I am a 29-year-old single woman, renting an apartment in Bombay, looking for a job or should I say, something appropriate to sustain me in this city. Just like Phoebe (from FRIENDS) “I don’t even have a pla…”. Not yet, at least.

I lost my job last year, owing to the pandemic. “Oh, it’s absolutely normal,” they told me. “It’s happening to everyone”. “Please don’t be dejected”, a few others told me.  But guess what. That’s exactly what happened. I was dejected & demotivated. Oh and big time. 

It wasn’t a great job. I definitely didn’t love it. In fact, it could be compared to a toxic relationship. Yet, when I lost it, I began to think that I was worth nothing. I became bitter. I found it impossible to get out of bed as I had nothing to look forward to. Or so I thought. 

To make matters worse, I received this one question from everywhere: “Dude, if you don’t have a job,  what do you do all day long?” It started making me feel worse about myself or I should say my whole existence altogether. I loathed each day. Because what was I doing, you know, apart from exercising, cooking, eating, sleeping, journaling, reading. Basically trying to conduct myself like a sane person each day. What was I doing? 

In no time, I went into the darkest zone I have ever known. The zone which made me question every single moment of my life. I tried everything, just to prove to myself that I was enough. From learning a new instrument to enrolling myself in new courses online ( which were practically of no use) and trying my hand at sketching. The list goes on! Yet, I could not shake off this feeling. It followed me everywhere: I met new people, it was there. I went to new places, it was there. I could not escape it. 

But you know what, I actually coped. I got over it not because I got a job or because it’s a thing in the past now. But because I realized the truth.

As chance would have it I stumbled upon the concept of ‘Productivity Anxiety’: The anxiety that leads you to think that your life has no meaning unless you slog yourself ‘at work’ through the day.

The anxiety that lives in all of us & tells us that we are of value as long as we are working. We are of some value only if beat ourselves up, even when we are feeling battered/damaged to the last hour of the day. 

To optimize every hour. Every second. That’s how we will make sense to society, to our friends, and our families. No matter what you do but you should be paid for it. Only then you are a person of substance. 

And suddenly, I was aware. Aware of my story. Aware of the fact that all along, I was measuring my worth basis the amount of money that I made. On some level, I always assumed that if I was able to secure a position in a big company I was of value. Guess what! I was wrong!

And suddenly I realized: “I am no longer a part of the race”.

Today, when someone asks me what I do all day, I tell them that I live. ‘Live’: Isn’t it the most underrated word in our modern society? I live and take each breath with utmost awareness and gratefulness for each moment. I realise the fullness of each moment with the cool breeze in my hair every morning. I live with a book or two in my hand. Conducting myself peacefully, without getting paid, of course! 😉