THE MANAGER NIM

01. CRASHED - SAUCERS OR HOPES?

Priya aunty clearly heard the glass shattering sound from the next door but instead of flinching she calmly continues to water her bonsais while adoring them like babies, her expression clearly states that she is not surprised by that particular sound, anymore.

Peering at the shattered pieces of the saucer which was gifted by your aunt years ago for the house warming ceremony, "that's the 95th piece, five more to go and bingo!"

your sister mutters under her breath, words dripping with sarcasm.

Without causing any commotion your mom scoots out of the kitchen and starts to clean the shiny substance from the ground with a straight face and her hands move in a regular pattern as if she has been doing it since birth.

Erecting his spine from the caffeine coloured couch in which he has been leaning against, your father stares at you, who is standing straight across the room.

Instead of an apologetic look for breaking the saucer, a murderous gaze occupies your father's eyes.

At the moment, he looks like a mob boss who doesn't want to kill a weakling with his own precious hands but disgusted enough by your mere existence.

"Sleep! Eat! Repeat! This is all you want to do in life right!" your father's deafening roar reverberates throughout the room.

The blaring alarm in your mind warns you to keep your mouth shut; tears stung your eyes and your lower lip trembles, not because of fear but out of anger.

You are annoyed with yourself.

You stare back at your father, the person who supported you throughout your life, the person who trusted all your decisions, the person who always wanted you to follow your heart and considered you as a blessing.

It's you, who is slowly shattering his trust over you.

"What is going on inside that head of yours, what do you want to do in your life y/n, please let me know, I can't see you simply loafing around and wasting your valuable time over those Korean boys and fictional books, anymore", his voice is brimming with rage and misery.

At the obvious cluelessness in your eyes, your father snorts dryly and leaves the room slamming the door behind you.

_

Staring at the bright white ceiling of your room, you are trying to find the answers for the questions which are unceasingly arising inside your brain for the past two hours and past few years.

"Who am I? What I want to do in my life? What is my skill? What? What??"

"Overthinking and fangirling are your appreciable skills, my love", your sister barges inside your room holding her hair over her head in a bun and continues to rummage through drawers, tossing off your death glares thrown at her.

"Ugh! are these drawers are black holes or what? Where are all my bobby pins go?"

"I ate them" you reply with sarcasm brimming in your words, "now can you kindly close the damn door and leave me alone for a while please" your sarcastic tone dropped into a snarl.

Your sister twirls around and looks at you, gritting her teeth but after looking at your pathetic state she shakes her head and lets out a defeated sigh.

"Why do you always look like an abandoned dog that dropped its last treat in a pond, what's the matter this time? Identity crisis or existential crisis?"

"Both" you blurt out with a soul-wrenching sigh, "I want to know who I am and what I 'm supposed to do with this life" you close your eyes and try to calm down.

Your sister dramatically clears her throat, "listen y/n, you might be older than me but that doesn't mean that you need to act like Buddha, finding the purpose behind our birth is the ultimate goal of every human being in this universe and for a fact I know that you have different things to worry about as of now, for instance, what kind of a job you are interested in before Appa smashes another set of a saucer, it's that simple but you make it sound like a nuclear bomb thesis y/n."

"You don't understand my problem Umai, I'm literally thinking about my future, day and night unceasingly, but every time I miserably fail in finding out that one thing which will excite me every single day if I pursue it as my career"

you glance up to your sister's confused yet concerned face and continue to brief her about your state of affliction,

"Umai you do remember how I barely survived for a mere two weeks in my previous jobs in those production houses and publications, right?"

Vaguely, your sister nods, "you're such a complex creature y/n, how I wish you to be less captious and like everything as much as you like these Koreans"

she whirls around pointing at the wall of your room which is camouflaged with posters of your k-pop boys and girls.

"I even have a fuzzy feeling that you might be content and happy with any work, if you work in your dreamland, Korea."

Evidently, you can perceive the mockery in her words but, your father who is silently eavesdropping on your conversation couldn't.