On first pay cheques and looming adulthood

Growing up, I always had a strange relationship with money. Being a sensitive child, I had the money-does-not-grow-on-trees realization earlier than my peers, much to the dismay of my parents who were concerned about my miserly ways. Gratefully enough, I never had to wish for money, as my parents made enough to ensure a comfortable life for me and my sibling, yet I was aware that the Barbie dream house that they bought me for my 7th birthday was not easy to come by.

Fast forward to the present, when I received my first pay cheque a while back, I expected to feel a plethora of emotions. I assumed I would feel joy at holding something I earned with my tears, sweat, and blood (okay maybe there was no blood involved). I expected to feel relief at never having to beg my parents ever again to buy me Kpop albums. I thought I would feel excitement at my new found independence, and become Chandrayaan myself and soar to the moon.

What I did not saw coming was a sense of dread so profound it felt like I was holding 70 burning coals in my hands instead of a simple paper cheque.

I physically felt all my wishes, desires and ambitious plans for the future drain out of my pores as I stared at the numbers on my salary cheque. I absolutely had no idea what on God’s green earth was I supposed to do with that piece of paper.

I have always been told by my family and friends that I am “mature” for my age and that I understand my responsibilities well. But somehow, the weight of those responsibilities did not hit me until I received my first salary, and I become fully conscious, for the first time in my life, that I was no longer a child.

Multiple images rose in my head like pop up windows. I saw my ageing parents and younger brother. I saw my married friends and my dust-encrusted Barbies. I saw the gold necklace on my desk and my cracked phone. I saw the dark circles under my eyes and my terrible posture. I saw the number of cards in my wallet, and how incredibly heavy they felt.

What I am trying to convey is that nothing in the world can prepare you for that sharp transition from girlhood or boyhood or immaturity-hood into adulthood, other than your first salary cheque. It awakens the most primal, dormant anxieties encased within you, and makes you painfully aware of your own place in the world and the weight of the sky on your shoulders.

If you are still reading and wondering when I will stop referring to a simple cheque like it’s John Kramer from Jigsaw, do not worry for those atrocious feelings did not last longer than 2 weeks.

Sure, receiving my first salary felt like getting stuffed into a paper bag and tossed mercilessly over the gates of adulthood, but I did eventually manage to crawl out of that paper bag. Such anxieties and feelings of apprehension were natural, and I learned soon enough that the road forward is not as smog-infused as I thought it was.

I do have responsibilities to deal with now, and things to pay for, and saving accounts to make, and taxes to do but I also have so much to learn, and see, and explore. My life has only started, and better things will follow soon enough. I cannot wait to get promoted at work, to go on trips with my friends, to buy my parents the car they always wanted, to visit expensive cafes and regret spending Rs. 2000 on a watery coffee, and so on.

I am terrified of the future but I looking forward to it so much.

In conclusion, my advice to other budding adults is to treat adulthood like it is Lahore. If things get too jumbled up and the smoke gets too thick to see through, just build a flyover and watch yourself zooming through the labyrinth of adult life. Yes, the traffic will stop and holes will be dug out, but when the construction halts, you will have a smooth road and will have long forgotten the dust, the smoke and horns.