She stared at the email message on her computer, her mind racing so fast that the words blurred together and no longer made any sense. Just three lines, but enough to make her life--the life she’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much to build--begin to crumble around her. Gathering her wit after an hour or so, Maya raised from the chair, calm and resolute as if she just woke up from a slumber, walked back to a corner of her bedroom, took off an old, shredded painting of Mona Lisa from the wall, took a pen and canceled the digit 14 on a calendar hanging at the same spot where the painting was!
Maya did you wake up already, "her mother shouted from the kitchen." It's past 9, don't you have to dress up and leave for office. Maya still staring at the struck-out 14, suddenly moved her eyes to 15, as ardently as a child looks at the world striving to make sense out of it. Hearing footsteps of her mother heading towards her room, she immediately hung back the painting, wiped away any possible signs of tears, and shouted back to stop her from coming inside. "Yes Maa, I am just going for a bath now." Her mother almost at the door, leaned in checking if she was fabricating things from her bed.
Maya is the most pampered member of the family. Her father, Mr. Nataraj, a retired banker, has huge expectations from Maya. He always wanted her to follow his footsteps and more. She, being the only child, never said no to her father for anything.
"Maya, How is work these days?" asked her father. "It is going great, Dad," replied Maya vigilant of her appearances. Leaving her plate half-done, she got up and grabbed her purse to head out as she was trying to escape a conversation with her father. "Finish what's left on your plate," said Maya's Mother. "I am full Maa. I have a client waiting at the bank." She ran out as promptly as she could, grappling to not appear anxious. Maya is a Manager at one of the most prestigious banks in India. Her Dad, a retired DGM from the same bank, couldn't have been more proud of the daughter.
She had accumulated several accolades and promotions for her operational excellence in Retail Banking in just three years of her joining. It was in her blood, praised all. She was 25 when she gave up on her dreams for a truce with what her father wanted. How could she possibly say no to her father? She turns 31 next week.
I will tell him what I have done, thought Maya looking at few papers at the bank.
Do you need anything else, Ms. Maya,? asked Mr. Mehta, one of the renowned clients that continued business with the bank because of Maya's eager involvement in the tasks assigned.
Maya still drawing a circle on her desk, thinking of the disappointment she will impose on her father once she tells him the truth.
Do you still require anything else? emphasized Mr. Mehta in a tone little louder than before.
Embarrassed, Maya replied no, not looking him in the eye. Everything is up to date Mr. Mehta. I will personally inform you once the formalities are done.
Ok. I will wait to hear from you. Have a nice day ahead, said Mr. Mehta leaving the room.
"Are you leaving early today?" asked Meena, one of the colleagues at Bank.
Yes, I have to take care of something at home. I have been procrastinating long enough, replied Maya without slowing down her pace as she walked towards the exit.
O...K, Meena could only utter these two letters before Maya disappeared like chaff blown by the wind.
"Are you fine? You are usually the last one to enter the home," inquired her mother.
"Yes Maa, I have something urgent to speak with you and Papa," replied Maya.
"Your dad's not home, he has gone out with your uncle Vinod. Your Uncle has chosen someone for Binesh; if everything goes well, we will have a wedding to attend in the next two months. And then very soon, it will be you starting your life with someone new," Maya's mother kept on babbling until she realized that Maya is no longer in the same room.
Maya locked her room from inside, took off the painting from the wall and gawked at digit "15" continuously enough for an hour or so. She finally dragged a chair adjacent to the window and sat down there looking out for her father. "When will you come home, Papa?" she murmured.
It was past 9 when she dozed off at the chair, her hand sliding halfway out of the window. Her mother had come and knocked twice to ask her what's wrong? But she didn't want to speak about it until in front of her father. She woke up from the noise of brakes hit too hard, she knew it was her dad, who else puts brakes callously. Maya had often reproached him for doing that.
Maya heard her father's voice, giggling on the phone, she grabbed her wit and ran out of her room. Her father had barely entered the main door when she shouted, "I can't do it! I am sorry, but I just can't do it anymore. Her father, not knowing the situation, took his step back and waited at the entrance for Maya to finish.
Maya's mother came out running from the kitchen as she heard her squealing. What is going on, Maya? Why are you yelling at your father?
She is not yelling Radha. She is just tensed about something that happened at the bank, answered Mr. Nataraj, still standing at the entrance with a box of sweets in his hand.
No, It is not about the Bank. Papa. It is about me, about what I want. I am resigning from the Bank. I have put in my resignation in the bank today, said Maya, dreading the consequences of what she just said.
"What are you talking about? How is that even possible? You love Banking. You are so good at it," replied Radha, her father still analyzing the whole situation to frame what went wrong at the Bank.
No, I don't. Papa does. I hate banking. And I have always been good because I was terrified of disappointing my family. I want to work in advertising. She ran back to her room, took off the calendar and threw it on the table. This is what I had actually wanted to do. Fourteen failed attempts at the entrance examination of I.G University because I did not have the courage to tell my parents about my dreams. Maa, you know, why I looked at the commercials more than the programs? It is because I craved for being a conceptualizer for those commercials. I failed at every attempt because I was too scared to focus. I didn't want to disappoint, Maa and Papa. I have kept it inside for 14 years, I can't anymore. I want to study advertising. That is where I dream to be. Please forgive me.
Maya sat on the floor, crying like a child sobs for a toy. Her mother ran towards her to console her. Dear Maya, why didn't you tell us earlier, we would have discussed it. You could have pursued culinary if you wanted, we just want our daughter to be happy. What do you say, dear, she asked her husband who was no longer standing at the door. The box of sweets was spilled all over the floor, they heard the screeching sound from the garage. Her father had left without saying a word.
Maya ran back to her room and locked it to herself. Her mother kept banging on the door pleading her to open, calling her husband with the phone in one hand. The call went unanswered six times. She finally gave up on both, knowing how stringent both were.
It was 11 am. Someone rang the doorbell. Maya's mother, who had slouched on the sofa waiting for her husband, hurried to open it.
Where were you, why did you leave like that?
Where is she? asked the father,
He walked towards Maya's
room, knocked on the door, quite gracefully, Maya open up, it is me.
The door opened. Father and daughter both looked into each other's eye, not blinking for quite some time. For the first time in 14 years, Maya didn't seem afraid to look back in her father's eye. She had nothing to hide.
This is for you, said Mr. Nataraj, handing over papers in Maya's hand.
Maya saw University of Florida, Gainsville, written on one of the forms. It was one of the top 5 universities for studying advertising in the world. There were forms from other universities as well. Speechless, Maya looked back to her father, who only stood to say, "I have lived my dream. Go live yours!"
