Right now, I am in limbo.

I was in Bombay last week meeting old friends. Sid and I both had a flight to catch on Monday. He joked that he can’t wait to get on an airplane; it feels like extra time. But for me, airports and airplanes are no man’s land. Limbos for space. As everyone silently keeps delaying every action, I start wondering if I am in a loop. The boarding should have started 25 minutes ago but time is not time here. I press play on another podcast. Limbo comes from Latin: limbus, 'edge' or 'boundary', referring to the edge of Hell. I want to be at the destination already. Even if it is hell.

I spent 2 years at McKinsey as a consultant, flying two to three times a week. My mind left me when I entered a cab to the airport and returned when I was at my destination; with little to no memory of anything in between. Between departure and arrival, life is on hold. The hours you spend in mid-air, the world goes quiet. You could finish a book after a year of not reading. Or have the best nap tilting dangerously close to the man next to you. Or sit quietly and stare ahead, something most of us never do when not on a flight, in perpetual waiting. In airports, you can imagine an alternate life or fervently make notes for this one. Whatever comes out of it is extra. We were just getting from point A to point B.

The limbo I am currently occupying is trying to get something off the ground. As somebody who has always had a job as defined by a salary and an organisational purpose, finding a purpose is hard. Being the first person on a project is superhumanly hard. I am the only one to discipline myself. Both the person trying to move things forward and disappointing myself.

When I was in school, I would start watching cartoons the minute I entered my house. It was the only time I didn’t have to share the TV since my brothers weren't back yet. The whole time, I would keep thinking about the homework I hadn’t done. Then I would go play with my friends and still be thinking about the homework I hadn’t done. I would come home just before dinner and panic as I tried to finish the homework before sleeping. Next day, I would resolve to get to work as soon as I came back from school in the hopes of enjoying the rest of the day without the nagging thought of homework. That remained a pipe dream. I continued watching cartoons with self-imposed guilt for most of my childhood.

Historically, for every worthwhile ambition, I have always found a person more diligent than me to be my monitor. When you have an external monitor, both following and not following the rules are fun options. If you follow the rules, you have guaranteed validation and if you don’t follow the rules and are punished, you have somebody to hate. But as you grow older, you are your own monitor; nagging yourself to eat better, work hard, fall in love with the right people, pay the bills and take a shower. All adult angst is like the indignation you had towards the class monitor. You just wanted the monitor to be a little chill so you could have some fun.