text: It was a Thursday evening. On any other Thursday, I would have been in a meeting or a call or in the middle of something important at work. One day to go before the weekend, Thursdays are busy days. Come to think of it every day is a busy day. Weekdays, weekends, holidays, everything gets merged into one big time warp. The days are indistinguishable. >And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking, Racing around to come up behind you again, The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older, Shorter of breath and one day closer to death. -- Time, Pink Floyd 22 years had gone by in a blur. Hard work, success, love, marriage, baby, start-up and it goes on. No one tells you that the most precious thing you lose is yourself. One day at a time, you erode like the rocks being hit by the waves on the beach. Some days you don’t recognize yourself anymore. Every pursuit changes you permanently. I am now a changed man, a different one actually. After all these years, things started to look better again. I finally donated a huge chunk of my wealth. My wife started her quest to love me again and my daughter had begun her own quest for meaning in a family. The time was right. >*Don’t look for me because I am gone. The one you loved is gone, the one you married is gone, the one who stood by you and told you to do the same is gone. The me you wanted was never me, the person I became for everyone to be happy was never me. The person I became to achieve my success was never me. The lies I told myself were the truths I lived by. Now what remains of my life must be in the pursuit of finding my soul. I have to let go of everything I love and everything that has held me in place. I have to find where life takes me. I know you may never forgive me but I urge you to find compassion in your heart to do so. Cherish my memory and move on. I leave you all the material comfort to enable to find your own calling. I wish you nothing but the best and I hope over time you will forget our bad times and always remember the good times.* I folded the letter, placed it in the envelope and placed it on her bedside. I always felt looked her best when she was asleep, at peace with herself and everything around. I locked the door, threw the keys in through the window and walked around the block to the car. One hour later, I was at the airport. I checked in and while I waited for the boarding to start, I threw my smartphone in a bin. I felt a pang of anxiety. The plane taxied on the runway and lifted off. I saw the city I had lived and loved all my life grow small. I have flown a thousand times, it still fills me with awe. Planes are special, they represent our triumph over the greatest forces. I looked at the clouds beneath me in awe. We replicated nature & out did it. I always wondered if planes would have existed if not for birds. >Ever think about sleeping without any worry about when you need to get up? I woke up 6 hours later, swollen feet, burning eyes and disoriented. After a few minutes of wriggling my toes, I stood up and stretched. The reality of what I was doing hit me. My wife would have seen the letter by now, my daughter must be with her. I tried to picture the scene. Anger, disbelief and perhaps amusement. My daughter would have excused herself to the study. Brows wrinkled, she would be writing down everything she knows. I could almost see her with 3 map printouts- road, rail & air, with 3 circles on where I could be in 6 hours. I will always be proud of what she is. The toughest part was getting the fake passport. The rest was easy after that. It is only when I met the guy who procured the passport for me, I realised what I was about to do was real. I was trying to leave everything I had fought for behind. Two hours later, I walked to the immigration counter & handed over my passport. I hoped I didn’t look as nervous I felt. Getting caught would not only be embarrassing but an international crime. I could go to jail. “Look at the camera please”, said the lady behind the counter. She stamped the passport and said, “Thank you, sir, enjoy your stay.” I did it. The first few days were hard. I had the compulsive need to make a to-do list. I craved for comforts. I had preconceived notions about the places & experiences that I wanted to have. Experiences aren’t supposed to be planned, they are meant to happen. I went back to the basics, food, clothing & shelter. Everything else was fluff. My body began to adjust to foreign food, to exercise & to sitting lesser than 2 hours each day. The only upsetting part was when I saw a father & daughter or a husband and wife in conversation. I missed my family. For the first time in years: I saw the sun rising & setting every day. My back wasn’t stiff. My eyes didn’t burn when I woke up. I was in touch with myself. The noise in my head was unbearable for the first few days. Then it slowed down, it stopped chattering & it stopped wandering. I was present and alive. I bought my first guitar when I was 23, always dreamed that I could play to hypnotise myself and others around me. The guitar sat there in the corner like a dream that wouldn’t go away, the years passed and I never played it. Some days I would stare at it, it was a representation of my broken dreams that I had left on the side to pursue my career. >Everybody builds a museum of unfulfilled dreams at their homes. It is usually in the loft or the basement. Skateboards, tents, cameras, biking helmets, guitars, unfinished books, dairies & paintings. The dreams are “shelved” to make way for suits & shirts so that someday we could make time for the dreams again. After 22 years, I bought myself an acoustic guitar again and took lessons from the old man across the street. Finally, I started getting somewhere with it. >*It shouldn’t take 22 years before you begin introspection. To love anyone else, you also need to love yourself & your dreams. To have the energy to pursue things that make others happy, you must pursue a few things that make you happy.* I finished playing the last song for the night, an overwhelming sense of pride filled me when I heard the claps. I thanked the crowd & took a bow. Someone tapped my shoulder as I was packing my guitar. “Can I get an autograph and some dinner?”, said the pretty girl with a large smile. My daughter found her dad for the first time in years.