If there is something that the last 20 odd years have taught me, it’s that everybody wants their comfort zone in life. And that few are willing to step out of it to get what they want. Pretty much like having your cake and eating it too. Speaking of cake, I just realized I haven’t completely enjoyed cake in a long time without having guilt pangs mount at the back of my head. Sigh.
Getting back to comfort zones, I must admit that I am guilty of the crime, if at all it can be called that (most articles on success and fitness use very powerful words to want you to get out of your ‘comfort zone’, so I’m assuming it is a crime). I have begun to notice a pattern every time I move to a new place. A pattern that makes me want things the way they were the last time I was happiest. I plead guilty to combing the Subway website and trying to figure out the closest outlet, even mapping the route on Google Earth; and of course, since I use public transport, which is the cheaper option for me to get there if I want to incorporate it as a part of my regular meal plan.
In late 2007, I spent some of my best days in Ahmedabad in the company of one of the best roomies I’ve ever known. Eating a subway makes me think back to those days when everything seemed just right, even though I had to deal with stuff like anti-rabies injections after a freak dogbite and what not. At least I learnt how to cook, after years of being the kitchen klutz.
Off late, I’ve begun to obsess about the happiest times of my life.
Some mornings, after the walk from the bus stop to the office, something makes me want to walk to the college canteen and order a poha-sambar and chai.
On some days when I step out of the office for lunch, I’d love to walk back to the mess with my friends and wait in line for some mess-style lunch to be doled out, which oddly enough, I really miss these days.
And then there are those days at work, when it’s barely 4 in the evening and I’m counting the seconds up to teatime. That’s when I wish I could just get up, walk down the stairs and grab a chai for a session of idle chat with the gang.
At the end of the day I climb up the apartment stairs, and almost expect to turn to the left into the computer lab where a dozen people might be crowded around a single computer watching a weird Korean movie.
Sometimes when the phone rings, I answer it half-expecting a call for a department movie/birthday bash/terrace party.
Most of all, there are days when I wish I could just hail a metered rick and jump in without having to bargain. This probably stands a better chance at materializing than my other ‘wishes’, but then again, I wonder.