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Monday, August 16, 2004

A grin in the mirror

The second day of being 23 years of age. Feel older, wiser, and none of that simultaneously again. Welcome to a brand new world, says Celine Dion... welcome to my particular brand of quirks, sings Nature. Another grey hair, another falling follicle... take it all in your stride. Insecure about when you'll finally own that shiny new car, or maybe you'll have to board an over-crowded bus (or train, if Mumbai) to work everyday? Welcome to a brand new style of cynicism. Wondering about when you'll start hungering after more money - hey, look at the bright side, you haven't started doing all that already...

The second day of being 23 years of age, and you're back at home - feels great, feels safe, feels stifling at some level too. You're longing to be back in the fast lane of work, back to meeting people, downing vodkas and trying to wake up in time the next morning in time for work, but hell, you love sleeping till late in your childhood bed, listening to songs you haven't listened to for ages on your very own computer, walking down roads and back-alleys you have romanticised so well and for so long. Duck that old hag called cynicism, and you realise that you're not that bad off as she might try to convince you. Hell, you're (only) 23 years of age... you'll get all that soon enough - the parties and the work, and the vodkas and the waking up and the deadlines - so why not sit back and listen to these old songs of yours one more time again, and let time do what he will... 23 years haven't gone by that badly after all, have they?

Cue for a grin in the mirror.

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