Today is one of those days.
I want to update my blog and I have decided to take the good advice and stay away from the politics. There are couple of things I want to write about, but my head is in a spin.
I’m in a dilemma. I want to decide whether to stick around here for good or to leave the island nation. Go back – to the familiar terrains of Dubai and the Middle East or some unchartered territory, perhaps down under, this time. I’m weighing my options and measuring the pro’s and con’s, but still I can’t make up my mind. I am restless. I hate these moments of indecision.
Perhaps it is the “island-factor” that pulls me back whenever I think of leaving. Life here is fantastic. There is no stress. There’s no rush, there are no deadlines. There is no threat to your livelihood. There are no clients breathing down your neck. (Of course they are there – but negligible, compared to some of the fast moving cities). There’s a war, there’s an economic crisis brewing, the prices are going up, but the merry life goes on in Taprobane, nevertheless. People here have the ability to very easily forget and adapt to new situations. Perhaps, that’s the God’s way of letting the islanders cope with the high number of deaths and casualties that take place on regular basis.
June 2005. I came back with my brains full of sparks – ready to change the world. Slowly, but surely, the islander-attitude has over taken my desire to do more. Day by day, I tend to do less, and learn to avoid the unnecessary headaches. I tried not bribing the cops and follow the rules – trust me, the system wants you to bribe the cop. That’s easier. You can’t fight the big brother. So I’m warming up to the idea of joining the rogues since I can’t beat them.
Looking at my future, my first option would be to stay here. I’ll become yet another islander and lose the fire in my belly. I’ll be content with life, and I'll be happy. I’ll watch the sunset and count the crows. I’ll find a way to share my life experiences and knowledge (the little that I have) with some disadvantaged kids in a rural place. Teach them maths, science and Sinhala, share with them the ways of the world... That’s what my soul craves for, after being in advertising for so long. I need to cleanse my soul, purify my thoughts and make-up for the lost time. But, would I ever be happy being a hermit? Would I be content with the very basics in life? Could I stay away from the ones that are near and dear to me..?
I don’t know.
Next option: I’ll join the rat race. Go back to the concrete jungle, work like a horse. Earn the dollars and spend the dollars. Have a flashy car, find a nice chick. Sell my soul to the demons and go the full circle again. Smoke Davidoffs, drive a Grand Cherokee, and be a slave to the brand names. Where would it take me, by the time I reach 50? Quite possibly, to the same place I am today.
I hate that.
But as the night looms, I miss the fast life. I miss the vultures that come-out in the night. As I don’t, and can’t, sleep more that four hours a day, I battle with time every night. I don’t know what to do when I’m awake at 3.00 in the morning – I can’t cruise around the city with music blaring in my car, they way I’m used to. Colombo is different. The whole island shuts down by dusk, except for a handful of hang-out joints in Colombo. I’m sick of seeing the same faces, I’m sick of not having a choice in anything.
The battle between the islander and the cosmo-guy goes on in my head every night. Who wins, only time will tell.