This couldn’t have come at a more appropriate time. Today is one of those days when I’m bugged with the predictability and mundaneness of my life beyond measure. Is this a time to seriously reconsider why I did the things I did and question all my life decisions? I speculate.
Whilst I’ve been lauded many times for my ‘courage’ to trade my career for a domestic life for the sake of my child, few can understand the stab my confidence and attitude has taken over time for being in a virtual house arrest when people my age are soaring personally and professionally.
There are times when I long for talking, or simply being in the company of an adult. I want to discuss random things that make me rack the grey cells of my brain. True, there’s A, but as soon as he’s home he becomes the kids’ property. By bedtime he’s tired and I’m spent by running around and catering to the kids all day.
I’ve no idea when and where the adventurous, carefree and happy Varsh got transformed into this perennially angry and tired, irritable and grumpy one. The worst part is when my frustration occasionally filters down to my kids and makes me feel terribly guilty for letting all this even touch their innocent lives.
I miss Mom. I sometimes miss my friends who’ve gotten too busy with their own lives. I miss A before he became a father. I miss the things that were mine and which I gave away for what I have today. I love my kids to death, but I wish I wasn’t a mother the whole time. Can’t I just be Varsh again?