Isolation

Sydney, the glittering city of life and vibrance, no longer allures me. The warning words of acquaintances who have been there and done it rang in my ears. They were so right. There are more lives and souls around us, but solitude is the main theme here. I am feeling pangs of isolation right now.

There is no lack of friends. In fact, I have met and made wonderful pals, good enough to last me a lifetime. But living alone in a bustling city does come with a price. Safety is always the primary consideration. No longer can I drive out after sunset to the theatre alone without the impending fear of being mugged or kidnapped. Prank calls on the building intercom will leave me trepidated through the night, with the only solace being the comforting and loving voice from the other end of Australia.

Career is as stale as a dead fish here, despite being employed by one of the most renowned medical institutions in New South Wales. There is absolutely no opportunity for advancement at this stage. Is it a sign that I, too, should slow down my pace and relax?

Perhaps the one credit out of all these is the fact that I have finally mastered some art of cooking, an amazing feat for a spoilt brattess from Singaland and of course, an immensed consolation for her gluttony future partner. Independence and freedom should have been more treasured.

It is about time to sort out my priorities in life now.

"It is what a man thinks of himself that really determines his fate."
(Henry David Thoreau, American Essayist, 1817-1862)