“Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”
It has been six days since I turned 24. Neither do I feel older nor have I turned wiser.
When I was a child, I assumed being 24 was all about having the freedom to eat chunks of chocolate cake at midnight. At 24, I totally know that it is not about eating cake.
I guess it has never really been about the cake.
On the verge of sounding almost cynical and lame, I tried figuring out what I really wanted to do in my life. Aren't birthdays just a reminder to take a solid resolution every year?
Let me tell you about my visit to a local bookstore with my mother.
The man at the bookstore, who owns and runs the place greeted my mother with the books of her favourite writers. It was strange how he remembered the names of writers and their books at his fingertips. He spoke about Ernest Hemingway as if he saw him writing The Sun Also Rises; he talked about Stephen King as if he confided in him. He talked about Rilke and his ever famous letters like he had one of the letters. He spoke about stories and poems--stories that talked about death and poems that reminded him of his childhood. He spoke about it all with a spark in his eye while I stood there, listening to him in awe. I never imagined a person who might turn 60 in a year or two would see the world by simply sitting in the corner of a quaint bookstore. I never imagined someone would tell me so many beautiful things about the writers I loved.
On my way back home, I figured what I really wanted.
I wanted someone to talk about my words as if they were written for them, I wanted someone to remember my sentences that flow irrationally in different directions with a glint in their eye. It does not matter even if it was just one person.
But I want that. And how do I do that?
Yes, now it all comes down to one thing - Do more. Write more.
This birthday resolution, honestly, is a part of me being selfish. I will talk more about the resolution soon.
***
This birthday has been quite eventful. I have celebrated it for three days. (I know. I allow you all to take a minute to roll your eyes.) I am overwhelmed with the amount of love and warmth I have received not just from my family and friends, but from strangers and my blog readers too. You all add beauty to my chaos.
I have received a lot of beautiful presents but one thing that has moved me immensely was a letter from my best friend. Thanks a lot for such a beautiful letter, Asisha! You have made my birthday special in many million ways.
That’s what friends do, don’t they? They make their presence and words felt even when we are engulfed with silence and isolation.
And then, there are the other friends who are equally lovely and push me towards taking control of my happiness, and urging me to be wise about choosing the right people and right things. And then, there are more friends who make me appreciate the beauty of the endless sky and sparkling stars.
Thanks a lot for making my birthday wonderful. This post might be a blend of a lot of incoherent thoughts running wild in my head. But my affection and thoughts for you are not incoherent.
As I end this post, let me tell you another thing. Turning 24 is not that bad. I imagined it would be worse when I turned 23.
Looks like it can only get better from here. Good night, everyone!
P.S. I look forward to a similar kind of love and pamper on other days too. Feel free to do so!
