Remember.

It is raining delightfully as we walk towards the parking lot. Everything looks beautiful and bright. The green trees look greener, the red car looks lovelier, and the people look like they have nowhere to go and nothing to rush about. You make a usual comment about the weather and I nod. I am in awe of everything around us, from the place we leave behind to the place we now go towards. The raindrops make a playful pattern on your window panes as we settle down. It is a sight too good to overlook, so we sit inside, engulfed in silence and the gentle pitter-patter of the rain outside. I tell you how much I love to slack off in a weather this dreamy and you tell me about the pile of work that is slowly accumulating at your desk. As you take my hand into yours, I know there are things you wish I'd say and things that you already know without saying. I know you keep telling me that there's a lot of time ahead of us. But time is slipping away, quietly and quickly. Days have turned into weeks. And weeks into months. The seasons too have changed. From a horrible summer to a magical monsoon. The next season might bring our way everything or nothing. But if it brings nothing, will you still remember this moment of solitude? Will you still think fondly of the moment we spent in the parking lot of a cafe we'd visit only when we have nowhere to go, not worrying a bit about the future or what tomorrow brings our way?

Twenty-First Vs. Twenty-Fifth.

It was 2012. My twenty-first birthday was slowly approaching. I carefully picked a pink dress and a got a haircut I regretted for weeks. It was just around four years but it indeed feels like a distant time with everything different. I was a different person too.

It was a significant year of my life. I was graduating, I had a couple of college admissions in hand, I was yet to take up my first job and I was highly indecisive about what to do with my life. I was not willing to settle down for mediocrity but my twenty-first year was just about that -- settling for mediocrity - in terms of love, life, friendships, and more importantly, the career.

It is 2016. My twenty-fifth birthday is fast approaching. I carefully picked a lot of dresses this year and was wise enough not to get a haircut like every birthday. I'm such a different person now. From choosing mediocrity to fighting adamantly for what I truly believe in, I sure have evolved into a person that was alien to my twenty-one-year-old self.

At twenty-one, I was largely apprehensive about the new path of life, bigger responsibilities, and tougher challenges. I was worried that I was growing older and that the best years of my life were simply behind me. Now, what can I say about turning twenty-five? Four years older, wiser and with more feathers in my hat, should I be more worried that I am soon hitting the later years of the twenties and life is just never going to be the same again? But why do I feel like the best days of my life are right ahead of me? That they are beckoning me with sweet promises and bitter miseries. All of it would still be worth it, though. Won’t it?

When I was a child, I was told sternly that time does not stop for anyone. Sure, I believed it for a lot of years only to realize that the myth could be altered. Time would stop, walk, and run with you only if you value it as much as you value yourself. If only you grow along with it.

Now I know that being twenty-five isn't being old.  There is so much to see. So much to learn. So much to live. And not to forget, there is so much time.

At this point, however, I'd like to worry about the birthday dress that a certain someone picked for me. It doesn't zip up well, but I am completely in awe of it. Oh, the little curveballs life throws at us in the middle of happy realizations and moments!

What Is Your Story?

Some stories are fascinating. Some stories are compelling. Some stories are heartbreaking while some are comical. Some stories are engaging while some are aloof. Some stories are stirring. Some are beautiful, and some are enlightening. Stories come in a lot of forms, they are conveyed through various mediums. They are sung, written, made into movies, but every story is powerful.

My obsession with stories and their charm began at a really tender age. I remember relishing stories right from the time I've heard the first story. During one Summer vacation, my grandmother narrated Ramayana to me, in parts every night before I went to sleep. There was no looking back after that. I would ask, plead, force my grandparents, parents, uncles, and aunts, and everyone I knew to tell me stories -- to tell me all that they heard and read. And then, I took to reading. I discovered a new world through the words of various writers. I loved Binya's world that Ruskin Bond created or how simply stupid Ramu and Shamu were!

It was an entirely new world and I wanted to devour everything I came across. But I've also harboured a nasty habit of envying characters and some stories. Often I would imagine myself as a character from my favourite stories. I desperately wanted to know how Pip felt when he left everything behind and moved to London. My love for Great Expectations is eternal yet I envied Pip, you know because he had the opportunity to live in a city that did not belong to him. I wanted to be there, witness it, just watch how he transformed from a young boy into a man who knew his priorities and values. When I was a child, I also wanted to be 'The Little Prince' and ridiculously wrote that in school essays that asked me to write about my future plans. Sure, I was too young then but it did not stop after I grew up too. When I read 'Pride and Prejudice', I wanted to know how it would be to be Elizabeth Bennet, to be loved so dearly by Darcy, or how amazing it would be if I were Watson, accompanying Sherlock Holmes in all his adventures and misadventures. What a delight would that be!

I did not stop with just that. I wanted to listen to the stories that people would tell. When my friends would tell me about something, I always wanted to know more. I would yell at them "Start from the beginning..no, no, do not cut down those details," or I would ask them if there was more to the story and if they were hiding something. I would gently nudge them to let me into their world. Into their stories. Sometimes, I would envy the stories or the lives that people around me would live, have lived. I find myself rushing to do a lot of things at a time, greedy for doing more and living more only to realize that I am already living one. That when I wake up in the morning to go do a job that I love, it is a story. Or when I meet a friend after ages and talk like we talked yesterday, it still is a story. Everyone around us is entitled to them. We are all diverse individuals, bubbling with stories full of hope, love, joy. Stories where you have a tingling feeling after you kiss a boy in a certain emergency exit, or when you sit under the moonlight when your friend talks about poetry. Remember the kind of stories we all lived when we would spend a night with our friends or siblings after an examination or the one where we walk on the streets of our hometown with our cousins while eating an ice-cream. I mean, there you go! There are so many of them.

Maybe I did realize it a little late, but the best stories are often not told, read, or written. They are experienced.

Almost Twenty Four.

It looks like I am turning 24 in 13 days. Wow!

I have always been a huge fan of birthdays. Mostly, because of the cake. But even otherwise, I am always the weird one waiting for my birthday.

I have been hunting for the perfect dress for two weeks now. Though I found one, I am yet to get another one. And I don’t know why, I am really counting on getting the best dress ever. I have been receiving really wonderful presents and thoughtful letters from friends all over the world. I have made plans already. I am pretty excited, but I am little worried too. I am turning 24. Age might just be a number, but the last time I checked I was still 17. It does sound like a big deal to me.

Over the past few days, I have been trying to figure out the things I have done, and the mistakes I have learned from. I do not want to tread on the path of philosophy, but I am where I intended to be.

Over the past 23 years, 11 months, and 16 days, I have transformed from an introvert to an almost extrovert. I have started talking about things that matter to me--my blog is the proof to it. No matter where I am, and how old I get, I have always dreamed of being close to Literature. I am glad I haven’t given up on that dream. I am writing and I will always write. Of course, it did require a great deal of push from a corporate job to realize what I really wanted.

I have fallen in love. I have gotten my heart brutally broken. While one part of it urged me not to give up, the other part has constantly reminded me that I am what I am because of it. And honestly, it helped me realize that I have to let go of the life I planned ever so delicately to embrace the one that’s waiting for me. I am all about adventure now!

I have made friends at the oddest of moments and the unlikeliest of places. While some keep me sane, some run wild with me. I had to go through a slightly harder path to understand that you got to fight hard to keep your friends closer, and your family together. My friends are incredibly amazing. Even if they abuse me for not taking their calls. Even if they embarrass me at places I love the most.

I have kept two journals every year for a long period of time now. At the end of the year, as per my traditional calls, I destroy them. Only after keeping a copy of the really good ones.

Often you meet friends in the form of books and seek comfort in words. I have found one book 13 years ago and I go back to it time and again. That book has been a part of my life in sickness and joy. And my choice in music, my choice in music is getting better with time.

Something doesn't seem right though. On the outer shell, everything appears to be perfect. Almost 24 and I haven’t traveled even decently. What a shame! Sure, I have started taking my investments seriously, but what is the point if I am not putting them into use? Honestly, and quite seriously, I got to tick a few places off my list.

What else is on my mind? Ugh, I will just put travelling on my list of things to do for now.

I got to go get a new dress now. My birthday is just around the corner.

And oh, I will tell you all how it feels on turning 24.