Chrysalis

Part I: Pilot

A new city, a new country. A blank canvas, a new beginning. New people, a new perspective. That’s what Elizabeth was for me. My knight in shining armour, my salvation. I was running away from life – something I’ve excelled at since childhood.

It was also a dream come true – I had been offered the position of a copy editor at Phoenix Pyre Publishing in Elizabeth. I decided to rent a small apartment in Audubon, so I could also work on my book. Writing had always come naturally to me – it seemed to be the only world where I could escape; hide in the shadows and yet shine. I could be anyone.

As I drove to the address my boss’ secretary had so kindly given me, I tried to take in every sight that I could see from the cab. It was a warm July evening, and the sky was tinted red and orange. A gentle breeze from the window brushed across my face and pulled strands of my hair away from my face. People were getting out of their houses to take a stroll or go for a jog. Everything looked like it was out of a picture book – so beautiful and scenic. So different from how it was back home in India.

When the cab driver had unloaded my luggage and left me standing at the front door of my soon-to-be apartment, it finally hit me like a truck – I was here; a 32-year-old, living the dream I’ve been dreaming of for so long. I was on my own, and life was what I’d make out of it here. I could do anything and be anyone.

My chain of thoughts was broken by the old Mrs Smith opening the front door, only to find me gaping at the surroundings and lost in my thoughts. She was the landlady who lived on the floor below. She took me in and readily agreed to rent out the apartment to me. She soon became a second mother to me.

Part II: A New Normal

As I set out for work on my first day, I realised how much I missed being excited, missed looking forward to doing something new. I boarded a subway train, after getting lost through the maze of stations. I finally reached work in time, at somewhat of a jog. I was glad I wore my favourite grey sneakers, which were a Godsend.

Phoenix Pyre Publishing is a small, independent publisher based in NYC and Elizabeth, NJ, focusing on contemporary poetry and literature. Perfect for me. I was given my very own desk and cubicle at work, which was a huge upgrade from the cramped and small workstation from my previous IT job back home. It felt like an achievement. My co-workers were all bookworms like me, and it was truly heart-warming to be a part of such an incredible team with a simple motive.

Over the next few weeks, I made friends with Anaita, who was a fellow proofreader in office. On weekends, we’d visit parks and have picnics or go hiking. She showed me around New Jersey and took me to breath-taking places. I slowly began making my place, again, in this colossal world.

Part III: A Cold Summer’s End

As I sat by my apartment’s window, the vapour from my freshly brewed coffee, sent by Mrs Smith, hit the glass of my window and gently bounced off it, giving the illusion that somehow the street outside was moving. It was a Sunday morning in early August, and I planned to spend it writing my book and relaxing.

Suddenly a man walking by came into focus outside in the street – for a second, I thought it was Karan. I almost spilt the coffee on myself. As I calmed down, I realised how the supposed sight of him even after five months made me want to hide.

It’d been a morning of great regret – the day that we parted ways and decided to remain ‘just friends’. Even though I was the one who’d decided to break our 3-year long relationship off for various reasons, my heart was still shattered in pieces. I missed us, or at least the image of a happy us that I’d created in my head. I couldn’t differentiate between the two anymore, they were memories of a long-gone past.

We did part ways, but the ‘just friends’ part didn’t work out all too well. We’d fight over the most trivial of things and drag back our relationship into every conversation. We’d hurt each other intentionally even after agreeing a million times not to do so. Eventually, we just quit trying to talk to each other any more than saying the forced greetings. Yet, I longed for ‘us’.

Part IV: *Knock-knock* “It’s me, Discernment.”

A few more months had passed – the radio silence continued between me and Karan. I still thought about him almost every day, but ‘Eat Pray Love’ style. I would send some love and light his way every time I thought of him. Then I’d stuff my feelings down my throat and top it with some mint and chocolate ice cream.

I slowly realised that he wasn’t my life – I was. I seemed to have lost myself in the relationship with Karan; but now I felt like I was meeting myself, again. Shaking hands with this new person who seemed so different than I was. She knew what she wanted and she wasn’t afraid to voice it. She was confident and more in touch with her emotions than ever before. You could count on her to make her way out of a mess.

I had travelled miles away from what I knew as ‘life’ in these past 8 months, literally and figuratively. I had learnt to focus on myself; do what I needed for myself. I had to learn to forgive myself for ending it; I was finally trying to heal.

The feeling of euphoria I experienced could be likened to climbing a mountain and standing on top of it, looking at the world down below. Everything seemed so small from up here. All that was in this moment was me, my thoughts and the beautiful surroundings.

Part V: It’s How You See It

I was walking home one evening from work when something inside of me suddenly felt like life has brought me to the right place. The way I looked at this world seemed different – like as if someone had tinted the lens through which I looked at the world. Suddenly, the man sitting at the corner of the street, strumming the guitar to a catchy beat, made me happy; and so, I danced. The horrible coffee from the shop close to home also tasted different.

The world seemed different – or was it me who did? I was at peace with me – and everything around me. I hoped and felt optimistic that he did too.

Maybe it was in me all this time.