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The decision had been impulsive and momentous. I had plunked my career unceremoniously on the back burner for the sake of a tiny little angel who had entered our life.
The serene waters that meet my eyes now are asking me to relax. So does the smile of my naughty toddler. Hadn’t I worked enough to last a life time? Eighteen hour work days, 6 days a week. Ten long years. Hours poring over spreadsheets with design data of complex construction elements. The love and respect I still get from from former colleagues and clients, and a decent bank balance are the major takeaways from a career that had eaten into the best hours of my life.
Luckily there are no major regrets. As I am penning down these thoughts here, the copy of my debut novel, freshly out of press sits snugly on my table. Like they say, when a door closes, another opens.
I had rekindled my passion for writing soon after quitting my day job. Tapping away at the keyboard while my son slept, while he watched his cartoons, I had managed to complete my first manuscript.
The Civil Engineer in me had stepped aside to let the writer take the rein of my life.