Happiness.

Before I begin this blog, I’d like to say this- Sanya Kalra, this one is for you. You’re all the shrink I need.

I remember how much I wanted a baby brother back when my mother was expecting her third child, given that my only sibling at that point of time was my baby sister and my candor didn’t help but be brutally frank about it to my parents. “I want a baby brother, and you better have a baby with a penis!” I used to say. Not really, scratch the latter part of my quote.

My mother was promptly taken for delivery on the given due date and I remember watching 2 back-to-back movies while my father toiled his entire day in the hospital. And after some 30 hours, I received a call from father.

“Haan beta. Bhai hua hai tera.”

Happiness.

Whenever papa used to come back from the shop and I was there in the house, he used to hand me candies. If I were watching the television, he’d just call out my name and I’d extend my hand in his direction without even looking and he’d put those candies on my palm.

Growing up, I had no ambitions, but I did have tiny dreams. Like having a car of my own, on which I’d play really loud rap songs, have all-night parties with my friends, own an iPhone, own a Play Station console, without having to share it with my siblings. When I took my BOARD exams back in 12th grade, I came back home to tell my father.

“Papa, mujhe gaadi dila do. Ab toh main legal bhi hoon driving ke liye!”

I took a blind shot there, and asked of the most expensive thing on my “To-Own” checklist. Papa made no attempt of hearing it.

Almost a week later, Papa called my name from behind when he came back from the shop. I stretched out my arm to him and he placed something that didn’t quite feel like candies. To begin with, they were metallic.

Keys. Maruti car keys.

I hugged papa. He said, “Alto hai. Neeche chal, dekh le.”

Happiness. 

In my first year of college, I got a call from one of my school friends wanting to know if I was interested in freelancing. My work would be to write news content in 60 words for an app based start-up called Inshorts. I was given an opportunity where I’d earn for doing something that I absolutely love. I went for the interview and met the CEO of the company, Azhar Iqubal (who’s now a friend) and gave the screen test. I passed.

Happiness. 

In my third year of college, I had a back in an exam. I couldn’t sit for most of the companies that came to my college for placements, and for the two that I did sit for- I didn’t get placed. All 5 of my closest friends in college had a job. When we all came out of the examination hall on our last day in college, they were quite happy, and I was the only one who couldn’t be sadder about the whole situation.

I came back home with a heavy heart, thinking about the one exam that extended my degree for good 6 months. Instinctively, I called Azhar up and said, “Azhar, I just sort of graduated; I mean I do have a back but then I was thinking if you have any vacancy for which the back wouldn’t matter.”

“We do,” came the prompt reply from the other end.

“Can I apply? When can I come for the interview?” I asked, curiously.

“Why would you give an interview? We have worked with you before. You join tomorrow.”

Happiness.