Its been one of those nights again. Discussing money issues makes me feel so helpless. It always has and it probably always will. If only this country wasn’t so racist, if only we wouldn’t have to grin and bear all. A long list of if only’s that.
I regret quitting my job sometimes, at least I was bringing in more money than I am now, working part-time as I am. But then these might be the best single months of my life and seeing mum and abba every day makes up for all the freedom and independence and mall trawling I no longer have the time for.
I feel like such a nashukri for not appreciating the job I had. At least it was more than a receptionist at some five star hotel, a fate many of my classmates have accepted. So many of the people I studied with are still no where close to where I ended up so I really shouldn’t be complaining but that place was the worst atmosphere to be in day in and day out. All gloom and doom and miserliness and nitpicking.
I am always thankful for the kind of life I have had. The kind of strength and will power I have seen my parents exhibit, the way they have always fought to the top and given us everything even when it was well beyond their means. I have been taught all of that, the value of money and the fight that goes into the earning of it I know well. And it makes me who I am today. I wonder if that is something I will be able to pass on to my children. Not that I would ever wish them to fight for their sustenance but it is something everyone should learn in these uncertain times. When the titans fall who are we to live in our little bubbles believing all will always be well. Will they know what to do when khuda na khasta the bubble bursts around them in a second? I have seen children insensitive to their parents constant struggle, never wanting to lend a hand, just demanding what they think is their due and that scares me to no end. Because I know I would’ve never had the education I did if we had that attitude.
On a different note I am petrified of applying for jobs. I never have and I don’t know how to. I also know that I don’t want to. I have this feeling that working as a drone is not something I will ever be satisfied doing for more that 6 months as that is where the novelty and the challenge becomes monotonous and boring. I would love to be financially secure just so I could always help my parents out. Just knowing that I would have the ability to would make me feel like I have finally become what they wanted me to be. So I could do for them what they have done for me.
One thing I know I will one day have and be awesome at will be my bistro. I know, Inshallah, one day Allah mian will make that happen. I will have my very own salamander grill and awesomely accurate electric ovens and a chef and waiters who act and dress and speak like they should and not be appallingly pally and unprofessional. Just because its Karachi doesn’t mean you should be able to get way with it. Plus they grate on my nerves! And we will serve pancakes and eggs and waffles and crepes in strawberry sauce all day long. Just because you wake up at 12 doesn’t mean you can’t have pancakes as a result!! Inshallah one day 🙂 I know I won’t mind having to be up at 6 or 8 or whenever it is that the suppliers will bring the fresh produce around. And anyone who knows me will scoff and say bloody impossible, well since its mine I will do everything and I will love it, since I will be the snarky boss 😛