the monsoon strums brittle chords on the corrugated iron sheet that covers my balcony.
it’s sunday, i tell myself. you’re home. before 9 pm, despite an iftar.
no way, whispers back a part of my brain, the part that adores schedules and routines, that prefers order among chaos, that likes to take jumbled up numbers and pictures and seek out neat patterns. the obsessive-compulsive cortex, as i like to call it.
and when this part of my brain senses a disruption to a regular routine, or something impeding a perfect sense of order, it starts sending out ominous signals to the rest of my body. did i remember to bring home the laptop from the office? did i lock the front door after coming in to the house? did i turn off the faucet? a world of uncertainties and unsteadies emerge from the mere act of being home before 9 pm.
on a sunday?
and why is my brain insistent that something is out of balance? it’s because, this afternoon, i submitted the final draft of a report that marks the formal end of my efforts to get a masters degree. of course, there are still a few more headaches – thesis defense and all that fun stuff – but the worst is over. i. am. done.
two years and 72 exams ago, this moment in time seemed like it was a lifetime away. and now it’s here, and i am finally free.
the question is, what do i do with this freedom?