Ensconced on the creamy white shore, I used to peek inside her soul, while she tucked in the wavy strands of hair that fluttered in the warm summer breeze. I remember opining to my friends every time that my mother was as sturdy as those rock mounds scattered formidably along the shore line, in that she could lap up the soothing, effervescent waves that streamed up to her in days that were serene, but more over, quite admiringly, could muster an inevitable amount of fortitude to stand rooted when hit by a raging tide. Little did the girl in me then know that, twenty years down the lane, she would peek inside herself and utter the exact same words.
So I was drudging monotonously through the dreary task of brushing my teeth today morning, when the thought struck me deep; thought that I have changed a lot over the past few years. The realisation, when put to words might sound quite normal, vapid even. Some people pride in the fact that they have been able to maintain the essence of the elements that form part of their innateness unscathed from birth to dust. Some others admit that they have indeed changed, but for the good. I, interestingly, find that I have undergone metamorphosis to become a slightly different version of me, for good, bad and everything in between. I have grown better in ways, my interests have changed and I find happiness in a whole sort of things that are impressively unrelated to the world that the ten year old or even the twenty year old I harboured. We accept certain things into our lives without bothering to stand back and give it a graver thought. We all change, but we are so busy going with the flow of our lives that we rarely take time to sit and mull over the changes that have been happening in our lives, unassumingly.
The ten year old I used to love gardening. Watering the plants was more of a habit than a hobby. The habit wore out somewhere down the lane while I was busy growing up. Similarly, I used to spend time sketching cartoon characters as a kid. I used to consider my products good, if not perfect. Still, the interest withered before it blossomed to spread fragrance. To add to the list, I used to like teen movies and young adult fiction ten years back. I remember changing my password to the title of a teen movie that I loved watching, back in my college days. I used to discuss for long hours with my friends, the characters in the books we read taking turn, dissecting the plots and dialogues, simply because we found the idea of a blooming romance heavenly. I remember a conversation that I had when I was thirteen, with my best friend regarding the ubiquitous presence of boyfriends in novels and movies. In the end, we both took a firm decision that we would, undoubtedly, earn a boyfriend for ourselves when we turned 18. How sweet! By saying this, I am not bracketing YA Fiction or teen movies as a genre to be liked by immature people. In fact, I watch movies with saccharine story line even now, but the difference is that I watch them mostly for fun and to while away time. Presently, they neither affect my thoughts nor do they navigate my decisions in any which way, as they did before.
Continuing the anecdotes, I used to be slightly selfish and moderately arrogant too back then, as I hark back now. Once, being the monitor, I asked a girl in my class to lower her voice, saying, “X, would you speak softly? There are also girls here in this class who wish to study, unlike you”. She stopped talking suddenly and her friends stared at me long and hard. I realised then and there that to take back my words was meaningless as the effect had already been made. What was left to do was to apologise for my blatant outburst, which I did later during the day. Honestly speaking, I have changed a lot from that inconsiderate brat to a better, kinder human being.
The opinions and the things that I believed in also changed over the time. I don’t think at this stage of time, the way I did five years back. Silly incidents or statements don’t excite me now, nor do pardonable mistakes provoke me. I have learnt to think matters over before letting it overpower my vision. I have learnt never to look down on others simply because they think differently. Along with the good changes, certain pitfalls too found their way towards me, unfortunately. I am irked faster nowadays. I have turned competitive and I yearn to put my best foot forward in my ventures, which makes me frustrated and impatient during the well mattered days. I should rectify that rotten part of me step by step, I know. And that is one arena where I feel growing up helps us the most. You realise your downsides and work upon them, before they act to push your over the abyss. You learn to grow over the years. You turn mature and reasonable. You learn from your mistakes to become a better version of you, ultimately, if you kept your heart, soul and mind awake. Although the process doesn’t end there. There might still be events that break us apart, leaving us torn and helpless, to tackle which we might have to devise a perfectly new set of fights. In life, no victory is absolute, if one fails to maintain the valor.
‘These teenage boys and girls! Why don’t they realise that they are so silly!’ Does this opinion sound familiar to you? There wouldn’t be a single family where this sentence wasn’t uttered at least once. This isn’t merely opined about adolescent boys and girls. A woman of twenty years might find the deeds of a ten year old silly and vice versa, which holds true for any two people belonging to age groups which are a decade apart. However, if they judged matters transferring their bodies for once, to the other one’s shoes, they would understand the importance those matters have in the other person’s life and gradually learn to respect those. I know that I loved everything that I spent my time on when I was in my teens. Because I find a few of them silly now, does it mean that I regret having engaged in those back then? Absolutely not. It made me what I am today. Let the other people in your lives, be it your friend, parents, cousins, colleagues, whoever it be, believe in whatever suits his/her astute judgement and desires, appropriate for their age; as long as it is not harmful, hideous, utterly foolish, illogical or incendiary. Let them be what they are.
But does all this talk on maturity assert that being adult takes the fun out of your lives? Each stage of life comes tagged with appropriate forms of pleasure. I treasure the memories of my childhood dearly. I wish at times that I could fly back to those innocent days and forbid myself from growing up. At the same time, if asked whether I would like to spend my present days immersed in the deeds I found enticing back then, would I reply in affirmative? I wouldn’t. I have my own set of hobbies and habits that keep me happy now. I wouldn’t trade them permanently for anything else. Perhaps occasionally I might indulge in an act of childishness(which I love to while at my reminiscent best), but not otherwise and definitely not always. I realise that I have changed. But those changes are inevitable and I don’t regret them. Nor have the changes taken the spirit away from my soul. To be happy and content in whatever you believe in and to stand by it, at each stage of life, matters the most- be it ten years, twenty years, thirty years or sixty years. Life is indeed a delicacy, waiting welcomingly, to be relished. Each stage of life is unique in its own ways. If childhood was an exciting, soft, creamy mousse, adolescence is a crunchy sweet, enticing wafer. If middle age is a taut, tender, perfectly set pudding, senility is a firm, smooth, moulded, éclairs. That said, can you guess what remains to be told here in this post? Ah, yes. Run. Take your pick, suck it up to the last atom sans regret and don’t forget to savor it wholeheartedly as long as it lasts.
So, tell me, do you enjoy being your age? Have you too, like me, changed over the years?
P.S: This post is tagged with ‘Mid Week Quests’, a sub section of this blog where I write on a Wednesday, about random nuggets from my life .
Am I stuck with writer’s block? One may wonder, considering the dwindling number of blog posts I have been churning up during the past couple of months. But the truth is that, my mind has been shuttling between matters concerning something very important in my life- A milestone in itself. In fact, it has been over stuffed with words, themes, fitting conclusions, gripping plots and eye grabbing titles; or at least, with the undeterred thoughts to conjure the same. Briefly speaking, I have been working on a manuscript for the past one month.
In one of my previous posts, I had mentioned about a short story anthology, titledLove and other enchantmentswhich has been sailing, albeit along crests and troughs, for a few months now. Two days back we received the design of our book’s front cover.The publishers had asked us if we had any particular suggestion regarding the diagrammatic representation of our collection, and we had conveyed the theme that was brewing in our minds. The theme was solely love and its essence, although a bit skewed towards the poignant nature of it, more than the picture of mushiness that most people tend to associate love stories with. And this is owing to the fact that each story in the anthology is soulful, portraying the sheer intensity of the varied shades of love, rather than focussing merely on the exhilarating nature of it.Continue reading “Love And Other Enchantments – The Dream Ship”→
Dreams form an inevitable part of a human’s life. They inspire us, prompt us and ignite us with the much needed impetus to move forward surviving all odds to finally make the desire a reality. We don’t always end up with what we dream, but at other times we do. We aren’t offered opportunities in a platter most of the times, but at other times, we stumble upon opportunities while carousing our way through the life pathway. Life is such – weird, instinctive and purposeful – all rolled into one.