Growing Up.

A week before my birthday, I used to hand out individual letters to my parents. On 4-lined papers torn from my notebook, I used to write a list of things I wanted for the birthday. Yes, I was totally that kid who loved her birthday. Throughout the week, I used to carefully go through the details of the party, the invitations, and the cake. I fussed about everything. In fact, somewhere between fussing over my birthday to hoping I wouldn't grow up in a jiffy, I grew into a young girl with an ambition of creating something truly exquisite with her life. And now, as I metamorphose into a woman who has reached a certain age in life where her decisions and thoughts will certainly be questioned, I wonder about so many things. So much is running in my mind right now that I'll need tons of perspective to sort everything out.

I was talking to my friend the other day about a little trip I took, and he commented that he's proud of me because I rarely step out of my comfort zone. Well, I guess he's right because it troubles me a great deal when new plans ambush me, or when things happen out of my control. But then, they happen all the time. I'm learning to deal with them. I'm learning to make spaces for my mistakes, desires, flaws, and changing ideologies. However, I must admit, I'm still not there yet.

When you turn 26, you are expected to behave in a certain fashion. I mean, I'm just 4 years away from 30 (the very thought scares me), and I'm supposed to be more responsible, sensible, and maybe even put together. But here am I, grappling with insecurities and darkness. At the core, I confess I'm still selfish and play to please my ego. You'll never find me questioning my choices or decisions. Unfortunately, even the wrong ones. I'm beginning to think if they'll start defining me. You see this whole point of growing up is starting to take a toss on me. And so are these incoherent thoughts!

Some days, I find it truly hard to get out of my bed. On days like that, I truly wish my mother would come knocking at my door with a cup of coffee. I often find myself unsure about myriad things and people in my life. Despite everything, I wake up in the morning thankful for their presence. And then there are nights when absolutely everything seems bleak. Even the brightest possibilities. And yet I find someone I can call and cry to. Someone who just sits still on the other end of the call, listening to my sobs and never uttering a single word. I am certain about quite a few things in life and they are probably these. Now, I even know that growing up is a lot like getting into a battle with your mind. Growing up is a lot like choosing between your heart's desires and mind's sensibilities. It's a lot like picking your fights wisely. Growing up is no fun, especially when you have to make these choices every waking moment in your life and woefully live with them. Nonetheless, we all do, since we have no way around cutting this growing up thing.

So this year, as I realize that my mother won't be cooking me my favourite fried rice and aloor dum, I am hoping I can give myself a list of things I should be doing. I am hoping I could fuss about them. Because somewhere inside me is still that little child who made sure everything on her list emerged into a reality.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4WKh5UqtXc

On Turning 25: Work In Progress.

I turned 25 a little over a week ago. Which is the age for the new midlife crisis, by the way. Funnily enough, I am not very thrilled about it. I might have crossed yet another milestone with the most important people by my side, but the fact that I am turning older is catching up with me. I know 25 is not too old. A writer I know was telling me that turning 30 is far worse. But I am not anticipating the worst yet.

When I was 17, I badly wanted to turn 18. I wanted to belong to the adults club, be eligible to vote and to make my choices. But being my parents' kid, I now realize that making choices and doing things at my accord is still a luxury that I am never receiving. Even at 25.

I thought it was just me, who wanted to do everything, just everything before I turned a certain age. The obsession with remaining young and being able to do myriad things simultaneously isn't something that is mine alone. A lot of us believe that youth is the elixir of our lives. We talk about our college days with a spark in our eyes, nonetheless with a twinge of regret in our voice. "Oh, I wish I did a lot more than what I did when I was in college!" "Everything amazing in my life happened only when I was in my final semester." "I should have fallen in love when I was a teenager." "Life was so easier at 18." These are some of the most common things I hear my friends uttering. Like I already said, mid-life crisis is the new quarter-life crisis. My mother keeps saying that I was a six-year-old child when she was twenty-five and that she had bigger responsibilities in life - like managing a menace of a kid, and taking care of the entire household. (Thank God that our generation has exponentially transformed. We make our lives first before being a part of others lives.) I do not want to dwell on it much, actually, but the previous generations were neither obsessed with remaining young nor were they wary of responsibilities. They, in fact, wanted to grow old pretty fast. Being young, or let me put it this way, being recklessly young is a charming phase of our lives. It is probably one of the fewest phases of life where we are taken care of yet have the freedom to get away with most of our faults claiming that we are still young. Such are the conundrums of life!

The other impediment of growing older is that you begin to count your achievements. On a regular day, I am quite complacent with where I am, though I dream high and push myself a little more each day. But during my birthday, I freak out. I fill my head with inane thoughts. Always wondering if I am enough. If I am going to make it big someday. If I am ever going to see all the places I want to, be more and do more. I guess, after 25, your birthdays are pretty much a reality checker for you.

This birthday has been slightly different. It has not just given me a list of things to accomplish, it has done a lot more. It reminded me that I do not have to rush and fall flat in a hurry. I can walk firmly, enjoying the breeze and the bougainvillea trees around me. That I can stop and stare at the things that catch my gaze, and that I can surely spend my time reading more to grasp the splendour of words and Literature in a more pronounced manner. That I can keep moving forward as long as I am going somewhere. And more importantly, that I am a work in progress and there is a long way to go. Lots of miles to walk. Lots of stories to tell. Lots of lives to live.

Being 25 made me recognize that I'm just a work in progress!

Growing Up.

The longest and most productive weeks are often the ones that breeze past us in a jiffy. You cannot fathom when the week begins and ends. And all of it in the blink of an eye. When I was a lot younger, I always assumed that when I'd finally do a job I love, time would stall. I figured that I would be able to taste every moment of it just the way I enjoy my cup of coffee. Funnily I also believed that the job I love would come only with the choicest of work that suits my interests. You assume a lot of things when you are young, don't you?

Lately, a minor part work that's coming my way doesn't interest me and maybe, just maybe, it's largely influencing the paramount of work that I otherwise enjoy.

So, what's this all about? When you finally take up a job you love, do you generally expect it to be brilliant on all days alike? Do you always hope that it comes in the form that is acceptable to you and only to you? I mean, I always hoped for it -- especially because I could be quite rigid and adamant when it comes to doing anything that doesn't thrill me. It might seem to be an awfully painful experience to convince me to write something I hate. Something I don't want to be associated with. Something that tests my patience even during a good night sleep. And more importantly, something that pushes me out of my comfort zone.

It just does not work that way.

The slightly older, almost 25-year-old version of me definitely knows that even the things you love come with a lot of flaws. Just like how your favourite triple chocolate sundae comes with a bad case of cold. You still savour it. You still crave it.

That's exactly the thing about growing up. Despite knowing that it comes with cons, you still adore it.

SUNDAY SUNDAZE.

When I was a teenager, I terribly wanted to be treated like a grown-up. When I was fifteen, I wanted grown-ups to appreciate me for the kind of books I read instead of treating me like a kid. When I was sixteen, I wanted them to ask me for music suggestions than treat me like a clueless teenager. And when I was seventeen, I could not wait for my eighteenth birthday. To be eligible to vote and to be officially entitled to do all that I ever wanted. When I turned eighteen, I would shove it in everyone's faces that I was an adult. Every time, I had an argument with my parents, I would strictly tell them that I was eighteen and that they cannot talk to me in an indifferent tone.

Clearly, I could not wait to grow up. Clearly, I did not realize being an adult would be only about buying brilliant pairs of clothes and shoes while trading the little joys of life. Clearly, I was quite signing myself up for a grand disappointment.

At 24, I am doing things that I should have done as a teenager. I read Young Adult fiction and enjoy it. I watch sappy teenage drama and sitcoms of the like. I mean, being an adult might not be as bad as it sounds, but being 17 was a lot merrier. At 17, you are spoilt for choices in myriad ways. Something that being an adult doesn't offer you on a silver platter, and the worst part is you want to behave like you are still seventeen. Reckless, with no responsibilities and lead a life where you don't have to think twenty times before you act.

On the contrary, I was rather organized as a teenager. I was one of those geeks who finished college assignments on time and did things with a conviction that 24-year-old Sunaina hasn't mustered yet. I had all these amazing plans that I would wear only black and white formals to work as an adult but I wear Spongebob and Batman merchandise often. What's worse? I hated Taylor Swift as a teenager, but these days, I listen to her more often than I should.

I could go on and on with this list, and there will be no end because what the hell, I am Benjamin Button-ing!

Wow.