Alice In Blunderland

(I had originally written this as an article for a friend's newspaper. The newspaper didn't even go into print.)

I open my eyes. The sun is just rising outside. This is bad news. I stare at my ceiling, trying to hang on to the dream that I was having. Hoping I would go back to it, I close my eyes. Instantly, my cell phone slaps me with an alarm causing me to open my eyes again. The voice in my head tells me to go back to sleep. This bed is really comfortable but I have to go to office. I re-assure myself that even in my absence; work can carry on in the same way. Besides, I could use a rest. I don’t want to go to office. I realize how warm the blanket is. I am still searching for a reason to not go back to office as I close my eyes. My alarm goes off again. I feel guilty. I stayed up last night because I could not stop myself from watching the final episodes of Mad Men. Habits have come and gone but I have never managed to fix this. I finally pull myself out of bed. It’s 6:45 AM. I have to reach office at 7. In fifteen minutes, I have to get ready, make breakfast, eat breakfast and complete the 30-minute journey to office. I think about my schedule for the day: Go to office, come home. That shouldn’t be too tough. I check the contents of my wallet. No social events tonight.  The alarm goes off again. I am late.

Two months ago, I had been sleepless for a different reason altogether.  “We will let you know by next week” was what they would always say. I had finished my graduation in animation. Getting a job is not really tough.  However, finding a good company with good work can be quite a task. There were times when I would go for an interview and as soon as I would step inside the office, I would decide that I don’t want to come back here. While on other days, a company would tell me, in a subtle manner, that they do not want me back there.  While I was dozing one afternoon, I got a call from a studio, offering me an internship. Yes, they would like me to come down to their office to meet them.  No, I would not be paid. With some preparation, I went for the interview the next day. I promised full commitment and maximum energy in work. In my head I knew I was telling them the truth. Yes, I wanted to come back here. No, I would not make the same mistakes as college. He finally asked me, “So, when do you want to start?”  I consider myself fairly lucky here. Here I am, working in animation production while a lot of my batch-mates found it difficult just to get in their field of choice. Some of them went to new colleges. Some changed cities while others changed career paths. It’s almost the dream job for me but I struggle to wake up for it, everyday.

It’s already 8AM when I finally step into office. On my way up, I expect to run into my boss. Luckily, he isn’t there today. There are just seven or eight employees on the floor. I sneak into my department. General shift doesn’t start till 10AM. No one else in my department has arrived yet. My crime will go largely unnoticed. As the computer boots, I close my eyes again. I am waiting for something to kick-start my day but I have no idea what. I get up from my seat to look for the story-board. I scan through it, looking for frames that were still incomplete yesterday. Oddly, I slipped into this environment rather comfortably. I don’t feel that things have drastically changed in my life. I don’t miss the college-styled timings or the breaks between each class. I hardly remember them. The transition from college to office was fairly smooth, I guess. Maybe, all this is yet to sink in. Or maybe, I had already known that this how it was going to be.

Roll back six months. College had just ended. While some of us were now looking back, pondering at what could have been there were others who were getting sentimental about leaving college. I still do not share that emotion. My college life had been massively boring in the third year. By the time, I had reached the final semester, my relationship with my friends and teachers were, let’s just say, not ideal. I avoided conversations inside college premises for I feared I will end up in another argument over past wounds. On top of it, most of my time in classes was spent gazing vacantly into a distant corner, being disconnected from whatever that was being taught, feeling irritated and trying to stay awake. I was just counting each day to get away from this. And I wasn't the only one. All this time, I could not avoid reality. The same thought occupied me wherever I went. So on coming back to Delhi, I started looking for jobs. Seeing that I was not making any progress, I was given all sorts of opinions. My family was supportive but somehow they were far more aware of the ground reality than I. They already knew that this was not going to be easy. At the same time, I had to put up with all sort of advises from just anyone. I was told that changing careers is not a bad option. Upon seeing that I did not quite agree with this, I was told it’s just a suggestion but I should not rule it out. Someone told me that MBA is very lucrative and maybe I should prepare for CAT. I found it tough to convince them that my degree held some importance. I had not spent the last three years filling sketch books and making films so that it would look good on my resume. I did those things because I wanted to. A creative environment is the only place I could fit myself.

I eat lunch at a dhaba, a short walk from office. I eat early to avoid a crowd. In the silence, I ponder over conversations that have happened in the past days. I don’t think about work. I slowly begin my walk back towards office. I have been working for two months now. Everyone knows each other. I get back into my department just as everyone gets out for lunch. It’s a busy day in the office, by the way. A deadline is looming over us. We have to finish the current episode today. Every once in a while, some animators call me to fix an error or modify one of the backgrounds. Occasionally, someone compliments me for my work. I have been working like crazy for the past two three days. I am on a roll, I tell myself. I re-start my MP3 player. Get back to work, the voice in my head tells me.

By the time I leave for home, the sun is already set. I step into my home and turn on the lights. There was a time when I used to imagine, that as soon as I would turn on the light, a strange creature from some deep corner of outer space would pounce on me. There were other times when I would be convinced that the reason my bedroom door had suddenly shut was because some spirit had now chosen to haunt me. When you live alone, you tend to think a lot more. And you notice every little sound around you. But by alone, I don’t mean the state-of-mind (however, I have been there quite a few times) but as dictionary.com describes it, “without others”. And when you live alone, suddenly everyone is your friend. To you, your home is a place you come back to sleep. To your friends, your home is something between a bar and a brothel.

When I finished school, my career path was clear. What could be a better choice than animation? Besides if I was unable to get into one of the big engineering colleges (which seemed likely at that time), I could have taken admission in some small college in a distant part of the country. I knew I was destined for disaster. It would have taken me a miracle to get through engineering. The only interest I had in physics was in the science of Formula 1, not in textbooks.  

My body protests as I tie my shoes. Maybe, I can skip it this one day. I will go again tomorrow. It’s cold outside. Once outside, I find it almost difficult to control my enthusiasm. I want to run all the way to the park. I resist the urge and walk along. There is no one in the park. It’s pretty dark and I can hardly see the path in a lot of a places. I start to sprint.  I push myself even as my legs start to give up. I want to fit those jeans again. Maybe you should move on and buy a new pair, the voice in my head tells me. Just as I am about to finish my final lap, hauntingly, in my headphones Layne Stayley screams “we die ­young, faster we run”.  I stop. I try to breath but it takes me a while. Conversations come back to me, even though I have been trying to put them away for a while now. I straighten up and start to walk again. That should be enough for today, I console myself. I could have pushed myself a little more. Stayley’s lyrics echo in my head. Maybe tomorrow will be different.