How many things do we do that remind us of the life we’ve led or the one we thought we’d lead?
My life looks simple and uncomplicated on surface. With all mandatory things ticked off the check-list, there isn’t much I should be cribbing about (reference: society’s checklist).
Each day is almost an exact-replica of the day-previous.
Get up in the morning- go for a quick walk (my motivation lasts at least half a month long if Sleep-Goddess and PM levels allow) and block my ears against any external sound, thank God for music!! (because silence equals random-thoughts and getting pulled in directions that have no space in a well-chalked-out day-plan) Throw some stuff together for breakfast; hoping to strike a balance between what’s healthy and what’s easier to make and rush to work (looking fresh and professional)
‘Work’ for all practical purposes is defined as plopping your ass in front of a computer screen for a minimum 10 waking hours a day (doing the job far from what you thought you were hired to, dealing with the shit people around create, yet, look patient and interested in all circumstances, politely smiling and punctuating sentences with thank you’ s and sorry’ s).
After driving back through rush hour like a zombie, the day’s battle is far from getting over and there is still some stuff like getting a meal on the table, eating it (I bet whoever thought of three meals-a-day surely didn’t cook them on their own) spending quality time with family (mostly with tv in the background) and making your presence felt on social media that remains before finally resting in peace!
And the last thought before sleeping is more often than not, hoping the night never ends…. Why? Coz that’s the time I dream… and escape reality.
All this has been the adult-way of life. As days turned into weeks, months and years; it took me a while to realize that I wasn’t too far from becoming a grey-head myself. The time to tell coming generations that my white hair equaled experience was a reality staring at me.
But I had not done any of the extra-ordinary stuff I believed I would, in fact I was doing the exact same UN-cool stuff I thought only ordinary mango-people did.
The thought was scary but not as scary as not finding anything common with a picture of me clicked a little over twenty year’s ago; in that I looked over the moon as a dog did tricks to catch a cookie off my hand.
I stared at the album long and hard, looking at myself and the irony that came alongside. The joyful, gleaming eyes bore no resemblance to the tired-puffy ones ones, nor did the apparent curiosity and fascination of seeing a dog follow simple commands of hand-shakes and sit-downs.
I broke into cold-sweat and gobbled-up a couple of ice-cream tubs before the obvious dawned; that moment was supposed to be a turning point in my life.
I’ve begun my journey to listen; to what the mind, body and soul tried to communicate, to sounds of nature and voices of thoughts that had been shunned for far too long. It’s going to be a long-long journey, far from easy but I feel ready.
The long-forgotten wish-list is out of the attic and it’s time to tick them off, one by one. 🙂 🙂 🙂