I have quit my job. October sixteenth was my last day. I remember because the sky was infused with a vibrant blue. Looked as if a peacock had dissolved into a puddle. Its feathers had come asunder and were now filaments of white icy lightning that flashed across the sky.
Why did I leave my job? My heart said it was time. It was a sudden decision, in the sense that I did not look for another job before resigning. It did not feel sudden, though. It felt complete and peaceful. It felt like I had moved from one loop to another on of one of those link bracelets and the time had come to close the clasp.
Currently, I am sending out the resume and some carefully selected sample articles to pitch for work that will make me happy.
There has not been much time to write the blog. I traveled to Delhi recently and came back full...of love and happiness. So much so that my belly aches when I think of the awesome simplicity and serendipity I enjoyed there.
Now, I wake up. I go to the terrace and maybe write a sample article in long hand. I write in the open. There is a gentle breeze that might brush a paper-flower my way. I might stop writing and pick it up. My skin has a sweet conversation with sunlight. I might look around, sensing the moisture in the air. Sure enough, in the distance is a dense greyness. Clouds pregnant with rain. Because my head is up, other things will come in my view. A white beautiful bird gliding flawlessly. Two maverick crows fighting for a bit of bread. One perfect orange blossom atop a tree with lime green leaves.
My article gets done. I read it. I cap my pen and go down to my room to type it out. Knowing, deeply knowing, that all this will be there when I come back.
My days are quiet and busy. They seem to be shining with a glad, joyous uncomplicatedness. And though I sometimes have trouble believing it, I have to accept it now.
In such consummate quietness and ordinariness, I am having the time of my life.