• Mohana Das

Shall I keep driving?

Updated: Sep 10, 2021

Taking a risk in your career is akin to driving along a wide, empty highway - constantly worrying about having enough gas, if there's a rest stop up ahead, if you passed the gas station too hastily, and whether or not you should take the nearest exit and get off the highway once and for all.

I've been driving for 4 months now. I love this highway. Its peaceful. On some days, I'm able to cover great distances. Yet, lately I've started to worry.

My gas tank is still full, but I'm worried.

There are plenty of rest stops on the way, but every time I pass one, I'm worried it will be the last one I see.

Sometimes I see a sign which says there's an exit up ahead leading to the next town. I wonder if I should take it. Then I remember, that town isn't my destination. I'd just waste time there. The place I want to go is still far, far away.

In the end, all this is doing to me is making me anxious; making me wonder if I'll be stranded in a faraway place with no place to turn back to.

Today I woke up, and I suddenly couldn't drive. Yes, there are days like that too. Just because I love the highway, doesn't mean I feel like driving on it all the time. Whenever that happens, I start thinking more and more about the next town. I think about having neighbours, making new friends, getting a house and not sleeping in the car anymore.

I think about having new things to tell people when they ask me how I'm doing. Now, all I can say is "I've been driving on the highway."

The worst part is, I've been dreaming of getting in the car and driving on this highway for a long time. Now that I'm finally doing it, I'm having a hard time enjoying myself because I'm too busy worrying about not being able to reach my destination.

Its exactly like a tweet I read on the internet that said, "I feel like I'm constantly worrying about the next part of my life without realizing that I'm right in the middle of what I used to look forward to."

When I was living in one of those towns, I hated it. But, at least I had a place to live. That's what I can't help telling myself on days like these. When you can't drive the car, it turns into a stifling metal box. It makes you miss having a house.

I hate admitting this - that the temptation keeps nagging at me. Because it makes me look weak. When I talk to people about it, they make me feel like I have no resolve or that I'm not sure of what I want.

But it's not true. You can want something with all your heart and mind, and still carry doubts about the risks it entails. Driving on a highway with your eyes closed, not even looking at the rest stops or the gas stations, is much more foolish. If you do that, you're very likely to crash.

I'm not going to crash. I'm not even running out of gas, yet. Shall I keep driving? I think I should. Because this is my only chance, and I'd rather be marooned, on my own, at the end of the world, than turn back mid-way out of fear.


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