To Do

While sitting in the balcony today, I am sleeping for the last 30 mins and now when I am wide awake, I am typing this shit. Its not that its the first time I am awake till this time. For me, its a routine and today was nothing special. My life is pretty mundane. It’s so mundane that many a times when I think of ending it, it gets difficult for me to reason out why I should not. Pretty freaky, I say. I mean I get up – I brushed my teeths – I work – I travel – I read books – I draw sometimes – I write blog posts – I learn new things – I talk to people – I eat. I drink. And there it goes. This is life. Where is the reason to keep struck in this loop? I am sure I will die soon and hence listing out the things that I want to do before I die:

• Read 1000 books and then write one myself (I think the current count is less than 400).
• Ride a Jeep: XJ - 2002 Model and Goa preferably
• Release a Music Album.
• Climb Mt. Everest (need a much higher paying job to accomplish this one).
• Adopt a baby girl (if I actually do this, I might probably have to live for a long long time but then, it   would be every bit worth it in that case).
• Ride a horse from Manali to Leh – self supported.
• Play the role of a villain in a Bollywood flick.
• Work for 17000 ft. foundation.
• Own a coffee shop in Maldives.

:)

Senseless

I love words. I can’t remember them.
I thought I would buy a home in Naggar. I wouldn’t buy one. I told my friend that I would call her. I wouldn't call her.I talk daily. I don’t watch TV. The TV watches me. If deadlines were on a cricket-pitch I would have been a popular no-bowler (not the best though). I love preaching anger management. I get angry. The past is dead and buried. It haunts me sometimes. Bites like a snake. Non-venomous – for I am alive.

The dust that is there. Everywhere. Grey. White. Misty. Choking. Polluting. Eye-hurting. Irritating. I have a hanky. I have made triangles out of them and covered my nose and my mouth. I have big shades. I have put them over my eyes. The dust does little harm now. But I hear the flying, wafting, humming particles laugh at me sometimes. They know the cloth is going to go away. And so are the shades. But I pretend I don't hear them laugh. May be I don’t. I pretend my eyes never get moist. May be they don’t. I know I am alive. May be I am not.

Senseless it is.

Just a Question of Time

Am I really getting old?
Or just older. I'm still not on the other side of 30 yet but once you've crossed 23 and you are inching towards that figure, you can sense the subtle changes in and around you. The worldview begins to alter, at first subtly so that you can take it in calmly, and then it comes like a sock in the face, throwing you totally off-balance.

Right now, I think I'm in the middle of those two stages. I still feel young, but so much older than last year: there seem to be more than 12 months that have passed in this last year,I say.

Since last year, some of my friends were so busy socializing with friends and friends of friends and their friends. But, in the last 12 months or so, I have unconsciously sorted and sifted from our long list of acquaintances people whom I really care to be with, people whom I can look forward to meeting without thinking of what we should wear. The others have gradually disappeared from my life without so much of pain. Now, it's more about hanging out with our bunch of friends, having effortless conversations, enjoying the comfortable silence between us or even being reprimanded for getting too drunk!
We're this really social , but we don’t care any longer about making new friends. There's just no time or energy for it now - this long-drawn process of initiating conversations, finding common ground and finally bonding. After a hard day's work, you want to be with people who know you like strong chai than a diet coke. :)
And the conversations are slowly veering towards practical aspects of Life.I don’t even remember what my friends with children used to talk about before they became mums and dads!
I have no notes to share with them, but we’re still part of those conversations that make us feel like we’re old enough to be parents. :D
When did I stop being young and care free, footloose and fancy free? When did I start thinking about my Life, time and what not ?
Must have happened around the same time that I have started referring to college students as "kids"!
In the last week, I've attended two parties where the average age of guests was about 20 years. At one of the parties, there was a really cute boy talking to we people. And I could only look at him and think what a kid he is! It felt horrible to not feel my nerves tingle just a little bit under his glare. It felt horrible that I just didn't care that he was staring at me so unabashedly and all I could give him back was a patronizing look of 'you-don't-know-how-much-older-I-am-than-I-look'. Their music is different, their moves are different. And there is a freshness on their face, a sparkle in their eyes that makes me feel old.
My exuberance for life seems lackluster before theirs probably because I've seen enough of life to stop dreaming with my eyes open, I guess. Remember what I said about growing old, because I no longer can believe in my dreams?
It’s true, I think.
There are so many other things that no longer seem the same: the clothes I pick up, the shoes I wear, the junk ear rings, the watch.I can no longer get myself to wear, the funky stuff I still love but relate only to college days.The mellowing down, dispensing advice, speaking from experience – it all reeks of a slow process of aging. It’s the same process that forces you to opt for facials more often, to check your calorie count more carefully and wear the kohl in your eyes a little thinner.

It's more than just in the mind, I say. And you?
:)