Excerpt Motivation dreams inspiration The wait Story fiction

The Wait For One Call For 9 Months Made Me Realise How Waiting Is The Worst Thing You Can Do To Yourself

( words)
*For representational purpose only.

Early last year an email came into my inbox informing me to be ready to start one of those “amazing” journeys we were told about since childhood! This is a story of how “amazing” that experience has been till now.

To put the situation in context, on September 9th, 2012; an IT firm representative announced a familiar name in a tired tone: “Pranay Mankad..”. At that point in time, I did not care who’s name came before or after mine. I made the cut. I made the final list. A shocked surprise? Yes. Unexpected? No. With that announcement, I was assured a job after my graduation from, what could be, one of the coolest universities of all time.

Fast forward to the 1st week of December, 2013. In the midst of a social gathering, my cellphone rang and a voice on the other side, in a heavy tone of relief said, “the wait is over!”. Over-joyed, we booked the tickets later that evening for what would be the “most amazing” (and I mean it this time) experience of my life.

Was I bored waiting at home? No. Did my knowledge grow? Sadly, no. And that hurt. We humans; we tend to grow comfortable in our own dens. Bloat up like the proud King of the Jungle. Why do I say so? I weighed 78 during my final year at the university and 92 when I left town for Trivandrum. The figures are in kilograms.

But we don’t really look into our pasts now, do we? And when that phone call came, everything became a matter of the past. The “no regrets” attitude replaced the “let’s do something creative” one and lists started filling with whatever my favourite food was. For a moment I felt as if I was headed for my last supper.

Coming back to the wait. It was over. 9 months of waiting for one call was done. “It had been fun”, we said to ourselves and moved on to the next adventure. Or so we thought. I’ve always had strong opinions about everything. Somewhere inside, when I left, I knew the wait hadn’t ended. Today I wake up, wait for my chance to brush, bathe and heat my milk. I wait to wash and iron my clothes on a weekend and wait for the lift to climb up 9 floors to greet me to the sound of its creaking doors.

A similar story persists as I step out into the sun waiting to torture me with its heat! That’s the only time someone waits for me. Wait for an auto. Wait in the traffic. Wait at the baggage scanners. Wait for an elevator. Wait for the ladies and gentlemen complaining about how “done” they are with the institution and let us through the doors to our destinations. Wait for a chance to speak in discussions. Wait for opinions and suggestions. Wait till the clock hits…. Oh, snap! That’s always flexible (extendable).

Wait for clean plates and wait to clean your palate. Wait for coffee and wait to take a release. Wait, day after day. And towards the end of the month as the late numbers in the group of 20’s arrive, wait to get paid. Come home. Stay up till 5 in the morning. Write. Dream. Imagine how you won’t have to wait one day.

Remember those dreams. Just make sure one day you wake up. And don’t wait. Just do it.

This is an excerpt from 'The Wait' written by Pranay Mankad. If you want to know what happens next, please comment down below and let him know.

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