Life Or Death

I’m depressed. Depressed about the way I’m leading my life, the person I’ve become and all the things I lost along the way. I‘m depressed because this was not how I had planned it to be.

When I was 15, I had my life all clearly charted out in front of me. Post graduate by 21, married by 25, kids by 30, a senior management position by 35, a house by 40, Executive Vice President by 45, several million in the bank by 50, a first class world tour ticket by 55, grandkids by 60, retire by 65, dead by 70. It seemed so easy and also so perfect. Except for the mid-life crisis, which of course no fifteen year old would ever bother to cater for.

So here I am. Thirty-five. Slightly balding, dangerously overweight, stressed out at work and two kids and a nagging wife at home who ensure that home isn’t the place I go to, to relax. To add to the senior management position I have at work, I also have the Man Friday position at home. The geyser’s broken, the electricity bill has to be paid, pollution check for the cars, admission for the kids and let me dare not forget - a birthday gift for the wife. "Why doesn’t she just pick up something frightfully expensive and charge it to my credit card?" I wonder, "What’s this blasted concept about give me a meaningful surprise gift? We’ve been married for 10 years damn it. What can be more meaningful than that?"

I sometimes think that I got it all too early. The perfect arranged wedding, twin sons by the second year of marriage, a great job with an MNC where I’ve been identified as a high potential resource. What is left now for me to struggle or aim for? I’m already on the right track as far as all my ambitions and plans are concerned.

Stop right there, my friend. Wasn’t there also a plan to be a happy and content human being? Wasn’t there also a plan to be smiling and cheerful and to end each day as happily as I had started it? Darn the mind. It has this terrible habit of always managing to show both sides of the coin.

As I go through life as a robot, performing all the tasks and duties expected of me, I realize that I hate each day. Hate the sunrise; hate the sunset and all the miserable hours in between. The micro level picture stinks. The macro level however is picture perfect. Last month was the closing of a successful business deal in Singapore. Next month is a family vacation to London and Scotland. Next year the construction of my house would be completed (I’m running a few years early). I really can’t decide whether I have it all, or nothing at all.

I contemplate suicide. Life has become tedious, where every year adds to CV value and family status but adds not an iota to my self. I am growing on paper, but am not growing as a person. Gone are the days when one could just lie around and read a book, or stretch out on the lawn and eat peanuts all day long.