“You know, you’re turning into a recluse…spending far too much time in this room of yours.”
“Come on, Ma! My characters are getting out of line…flying off into a tangent…this is serious. I need to work on this, Ma. Please…please leave me alone.”
“You were never social in all these years…now, look at you….sitting here, holed up all day, driving yourself crazy,” she declares. He types away, unfazed, bent over his Macbook, nodding in disbelief.
“Typical,” he mutters. She hears him, but pretends not to. She is determined not to let this turn into a battle again.
“Ma, please! Let me write a few more pages,” he mumbles, in a tone that feigns a plea.
She glares at him. Her look says it all, but he sticks to his guns. He knows there is no going back.
“This is my life, Ma. I really need to stay motivated, while I’m at it.”
Sheena knows there is nothing she can do, absolutely nothing at all. Resigned to her fate, she leaves the room, gently pulling the door behind her, trying not to admit that she is feeling utterly and thoroughly defeated.
Like every mother, she too had once dreamt of a bright future for her boy, when he had entered the corporate world, armed with a degree from a top Engineering College. That was just a few years ago.
Today, away from the rat race, he weaves stories, and dreams of making it big as a writer—almost as if his entire life depends on it. Beset with worries, torn between the head and the heart, she worries, unsure of his future, caught between Scylla and Charybdis, wondering which is worse—the struggles of a writer’s life or the pressures of the corporate world?
My other posts for BarAThon: