Life, why art thou a female hound?

A Singer. That's what she had wanted to become when she grew up. She did not know if she was a good singer, but since she had been taking classical music lessons on her mother’s insistence, she assumed her singing was good. If not why would her mother send her to those classes. Her career choices had been mundane during her tender years when she did not know what the word “career” meant. She had also wanted to become a teacher,for she had enjoyed playing the "School game" at home, but resented the fact that her elder sister always played the teacher and she got the role of the janitor for the imaginary kids.

Then, an age had come where her choices in life included where to hide while playing Hide-and-Go Seek, or when to strike the ball while playing cricket, or how to hide her scrapped knee from her mother, or what tattoo to choose from the 5 choices that were handed out when she got her chewing gum. Fun years of her life. Her grades were good, her friends were wonderful and there was not one thought of dread that clouded her mind.

Then, the fateful teenage. She was sane enough to cut short on her vanity and but not enough as she wanted to solve the world problems. She wished not to be the princess of the world but to be its leader. She thought she knew the world well enough that she could save it and all the people from their miseries. She imagined herself to be "The Messaiah" , The reckoning, “The One”. It was history and an encouraging teacher who had filled her head with all these notions of God complex. She fell in love with the past and decided that it would be her enabler when she addressed her great calling. Indian golden age, French renaissance, freedom struggle, American history and many other instances of the past fascinated her. Along the same time came English literature. The words and rhymes of the many English poets and bards had cajoled her heart as much as history fascinated her mind. She wanted them both, to sharpen her mind and soften her heart. She satiated her heart by writing bad poetry that she loved. She whetted her mind by learning about the countries and all the events through their existence. 

When her day of reckoning came knocking at her door, her parents chose Engineering. She passed four years there, having no strong footing in anything remotely in regard to the field. She joined the IT band wagon in a large multinational manger for many a sheep like her. Aimless, she wandered around in that world, doing what she was bid to. She found solace in her peers who were complaining as much as she did.

However, there were the ones who stood apart. The ones who chose to chase their dreams. The ones who looked forward to a Monday. In spite of failures, let downs, heart breaks they championed their one true dream passionately and this carped her. Those bloody imbeciles, who cherished their choices and loved their lives. Her inability to stand up for herself made her a cripple,not the differently abled kind, but of the subset Loser.She decided it wasn't too late to catch up on the history and literature and voiced her frustration she had in the field laid out by her parents, by her Alma mater and by her employer. Her parents suggested she might be happy if she switched to another profession like a banker. 

Exactly. 

All that a history loving, English literature aspirant needs is a switch over to banking. She realized as much as she wanted to save the world when she was a kid, she needed to save her life now before it rusted out.

That was the day she got to her feet...

.

.

.

.





.

.
.
and sat back as she read her credit card statement.