Breaking Free

Sara Maria was sipping on her iced vodka glancing at the 23 folks sitting with her on this huge table at this award winning Spanish restaurant in the uber areas of never sleeping Mumbai. It was a party to celebrate her (or rather their) latest conquest at work - An ad campaign that brought laurels and not to mention a lot of affluence to the corporate. She should be happy but there was a tinge of bitterness to this success. It was not exactly portrayed as her solo success, as her boss took most of the limelight and that was hurting. Given a choice, she would have loved to quit and start working on that novel which was ripening now in her mind. But alas, she was stuck here!

She wanted to go home, but going to that shit hole called home was also not very beckoning. Hence she sat there, staring at drunk faces and letting the vodka drown all their banter.

It was easier to slip in some other times. When life was carefree and pure. Sara Maria, initially Sara George was from Goa. Her childhood was joyous like any other catholic kid with God worshiping parents and an affluent home to take care of all her needs. She was the only child and highly pampered.

While munching on the Spanish Poached Lobster with Roasted Red Pepper Salt, she sneaked into her childhood. She used to love sea food. Freshly caught fish, prepared in coconut curry accompanied by bountiful of rice. She used to hate vegetables. Her mom used to put small prawns pieces in the vegetables to make her eat the veggies. But Sara would pick only the prawns and eat, leaving all the vegetables untouched in her plate. Putting her mother's stupendous efforts all in vain!

She reminisced the beach days when she and her cousins used to run behind the small crabs on the sand with always being defeated by the F1 running crabs. The oily fish fry which they used to hog at the stalls. And the innumerable sand fights to decide who will eat the best piece of the fish at the dinner table. The ultimate pleasure about the beach was the feeling of the sea when you first immerse your feet into its vastness. 

She felt the same sensation now and was revoked from her memory lane. A colleague had spilled water on her feet! She went to the rest room to clean up the mess but in reality to take a break from all the chaos.

In the rest room, tears filled her eyes when she remembered the day her dad passed away by an untimely attack and how everything changed for her alongwith her name. She started putting her mother's name as her surname to respect all the sacrifices her mother did to get her here! That was the turning point in her life.  She was a very happy child till then. However to avoid all the pitying eyes around she became more of a rebel. Se preferred people hating her, despising her rather than be looked with sympathy. The pampered girl broke out and became a fiercely aggressive independent woman at a very small age.

Just then someone entered the rest room. And to her surprise it was her classmate from the MBA college in Pune. They exchanged pleasantries, gave an update on current jobs, exchanged nos. and decided to be in touch (which we know happens so rarely). That small exchange of words made Sara maneuver into her college days when learning was so much fun.

Sara was one girl who came with an extra dose of attitude. Her MBA days were no exception to this trait. She spoke with just a bunch of folks and liked to keep her circle closed. Staying away from home with folks from diverse places was an overwhelming experience over all.

She recalled the funny nicknames they had kept for the professors at her MBA school. 'Spitting Snail' for the Prof who would shower all the students sitting on the first benches with his spit. 'Smelly Cat' for the Prof who seemed to be deprived of water and soap at his home. 'Chikni Chameli' for this uber hot Economics Prof. 'Kungfu Panda' for the Accounts Prof who was fat as an elephant but thought himself to be the fittest person. And very own Puneri 'Dada Kondke' for the Prof using alcohol smelling deodorant. You need to be a Maharshtrian or stayed in Maharashtra for considerable time to understand this!

Her friends were a crazy cluster. Theirs was this 6 people freaking group of 3 girls and 3 guys and strangely none of them ended up marrying each other. She was still in touch with each one of them. They did some really nasty things. There was this guy who used to add 'the' in front of every noun. And her freinds used to talk with him in the same way, "So did you go to THE Appa Balwant Chowk today to buy THE strategic management book written by THE Michael Porter". Sorry Mr. Porter, but yes they did that!

She loved Pune and always will. Though Pune lacked the beach, it covered up for it with the awesome weather, unlimited eateries, nearby hill stations and best of all the social life! She walked through Vaishali entrance waiting there for 20 minutes to get a seat every time she went there. The SBDP and idli sambar was just plain splendid. 

MG Road and its candidness always was refreshing. The walking plaza on Saturdays was fun with no vehicles around. MG Road visit inevitably ended up into hogging George Biryani, Rotisserie Chicken and Mutton Salli.

The shopping sprees were innumerable and never ending. Be it Hong Kong Lane (and you thought it is in Japan), FC Road, Laxmi Road or even Camp. The places were so many fitting into everyone's budget.

The phone rang and Sara was awakened from her Pune trip. Her colleagues were calling her, apparently it was time to go home. Something she dreaded doing these days.

Sara drove to her apartment. A 3 bedroom posh apartment in the niche area of BKC. She was in a live in relationship with her 5 year old relationship bf. It was past 1 am and the lights were still on. She wanted him to be asleep and not get into an argument yet again at this ghostly hour.

She was tired of being the man in the relationship. She was the one behind him to change his shitty job, paying all the bills, running errands, arranging all the holidays etc. And after all this, he was not ready to settle. She wanted to be married, settle like her other friends and snuggle into the happiness of having a home with your loving husband. Their arguments would be mostly on this and lately the drift had increased.

And yet she could not call it a day and break off with him. Post her dad passing away, he was the only one whom she had got so close to. She thought this was her only gateway to a joyous married life. And hence letting go off was getting difficult or rather did not seem plausible.

She entered the apartment to see no one in the hall, just lights dimming with shadows all around. She couched into the sofa. She put on her favourite musical - Breaking Free, one which both of them enjoyed and used to sing in chorus.

Troy:
We’re soarin’, flyin’
There’s not a star in heaven
That we can’t reach

Gabriella:
If we’re trying
So we’re breaking free

Troy:
You know the world can see us
In a way that’s different than who we are

Gabriella:
Creating space between us
‘Til we’re separate hearts

Both:
But your faith it gives me strength
Strength to believe

Troy:
We’re breakin’ free
Gabriella:
We’re soarin’
Troy:
Flyin’
Both:
There’s not a star in heaven
That we can’t reach
Troy:
If we’re trying
Both:
Yeah, we’re breaking free
Troy:
Oh, we’re breakin’ free
Gabriella:
Ohhhh
Troy:
Can you feel it building
Like a wave the ocean just can’t control
Gabriella:
Connected by a feeling
Ohhh, in our very souls
Both:
Rising ‘til it lifts us up
So every one can see

Troy: We’re breakin’ free
Gabriella: We’re soarin’
Troy: Flyin’
Both:
There’s not a star in heaven
That we can’t reach
Troy:
If we’re trying
Yeah we’re breaking free
Gabriella:
Ohhhh runnin’
Troy:
Climbin’
To get to that place
Both:
To be all that we can be
Troy:
Now’s the time
Both:
So we’re breaking free
Troy:
We’re breaking free
Gabriella:
Ohhh , yeah

Troy:
More than hope
More than faith
Gabriella:
This is true
This is fate
And together

Both:
We see it comin’
Troy:
More than you
More than me

Gabriella:
Not a want, but a need
Both:
Both of us breakin’ free

Gabriella: Soarin’
Troy: Flyin’
Both:
There’s not a star in heaven
That we can’t reach
If we’re trying
Troy: Yeah we’re breaking free
Gabriella:
Breaking free
Were runnin’
Troy:
Ohhhh, climbin’
Both:
To get to the place
To be all that we can be
Now’s the time
Troy: Now’s the time
Gabriella: So we’re breaking free
Troy: Ohhh, we’re breaking free
Gabriella: Ohhhh

Both:
You know the world can see us
In a way that’s different than who we are

And listening to this she slept off on the sofa.

The day began with a phone call at 7.30 am. It was her mother calling just after the church visit. Her mom muttered, "Sara, your childhood friend Dennis is setting up a small publishing office here and he wants you to come back to us and write that novel you always wanted to publish". 

That was her point of breaking free alone and not with her bf. Her avenue to break free of limelight hogging boss, her avenue of breaking free of a dependant bf, her avenue of breaking free of the daily chores and do what she loved and be where she loved to be. It was her chance......

The clock struck 8.00 am, and her daily alarm started ringing. Did she snooze and got back to her daily life or did she get up and got going to achieve what she always wanted?