The French Boy’s words

Caught up with a friend who is visiting India for a vacation. He’s French and had lived here a while ago. As his name is already as French as it can get, I will simply call him Jean.

Jean speaks 4 and a half languages (I think the half is Hindi) and has traveled enough to make me jealous. When we were chatting today, he mentioned that most of the companies who are offering him jobs absolutely do not consider the fact that he has a life outside the job. Which is why he is still unemployed.

I said that was corporate life. They want results and that sometimes excludes having a life – a real life – outside the job.

“I do not want such a job,” he said.

I laughed and tried to think of something that would make him understand why this was necessary. Money was the only reason I could come up with.

“I would rather work for little money and do something that makes me happy than earn lots of money and be miserable. I would probably have to spend more on treatment for depression then,” he said and laughed. It strangely echoed the same words I had said 4 years ago.

Money – when did it get so crucial? Was I seduced by big names and the mirage of big money. I don’t have either now and I’ve lost track of where I was headed as well. I would love to work for myself… have the ability to pick what I want to write or photograph.

In photography, I am not as brilliant as Jean. Nor do I have this artistic temperament that I would not work for money. I will, if I get to pick the work. I like to be known and appreciated. But the question is how?

I want to go back to uni… I wish I were French. Yes they definitely have a lot of problems but the Euro and the French Passport can open doors that the Indian rupee and passport cannot. Sad, but true. I am ready to work that extra mile to get out once I figure out which door is it exactly that I want to walk through.

Song of the day: Money Money Money  – Abba

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