Rhetoric has answers if you write them yourself.

I contemplated destiny a few months ago. I tore my hair apart with existential angst. I threw some questions out in the open. I thought their characteristic rhetoric will prevent me from finding answers. I thought I’ll never see the light at the end of the tunnel. Who knew someone had switched it off to save the world from global warming?

But seriously, when you think you are waiting for Godot, you know it’s an eternal wait and you habitually suppress all expressions of hope to go on with the life you hate. I did that for a long time. Until I was pushed to the very depths of depression. Until I realised that Godot was actually Mohammed in religious disguise. So I stopped waiting. And I went to Mohammed to find Godot hiding inside a coffee cup.

It was one end-of-the-road afternoon in a backyard coffee shop when a colleague and I looked into each other’s eyes and instinctively said yes. Yes to pulling all stops and beginning life anew. Yes to saying no to everything we had begun to loathe about the industry that employed us. Yes to continue giving it all to the profession we loved. But by stepping out of the confines of orthodoxy and mediocrity. By running away from bonded labour to start a veritable sweatshop of our own.

We began by defining our own rules. By waking up and promising ourselves we’d live our dreams. By swearing we’d find those darned answers ourselves. So we answered our “Then What” by letting go of a seemingly comfortable escapist existence and grabbing hold of a high risk low investment venture; our “Where Do We Go From Here” by going to all our friends and sharing our plans with them; and our “What Do We Do For Money” by crossing our fingers and hoping like hell that this would make us rich.

It’s been a ride through Hurricane Katrina and Tsunami Sunitha ever since. A race against time to learn new skills and refine old ones. An enormous shoechange from the hushed Havaiannas of an introspective writer to the modish Manolos of an aggressive entrepreneur. And a psychic peep through the eye of the storm shows our future smiling back at us.

I wouldn’t say it is something I should have done ages ago. But it sure is the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. Well, what else can I tell you? 1 month. 10 clients. No monies (yet). But all the peace in the world. I think I can safely say I’ve finally found the means to buy my soul back.