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30

30
its just a matter of a few years. and there I will be. under the glorious arches of 30-hood. 
30
The number shines brightly in my head. Its a milestone that constantly barges into my vision, wherever i may be looking. i imagine it to be a small leprechaun like creature that's running around in 2 concentric circles. One around my head - the constant running threatens to add creases on my forehead. and the other around my waist, where the constant running is adding to the roundness of my person. 
30 
it constantly asks me to look back. 'Look back!' it screams. and then it tries to hold steady my gaze back into my past. Its a direction I have not frequently lingered on. The opposite direction was much more alluring in the past, and now I live content being in the present. But 30 makes me want to take stock of what i was set out for, and what grounds I have covered. I have never been good with appraisal, and this one will be the toughest. (I am happy with my life. but its no where near arriving at its purpose yet)
Contrary to the number, my instinct tells me that I still have time, that i am still young, that exploration is still beautiful. but yet, its also telling me to get a grip on a single path too. its time. 
30
There's this another thought that's crowding my mind with growing gathering these days. This thought divides my life in two halves along the arch of 30-hood. and it presents me with a possibility. what if i partner someone in life who's never been a witness to my life before 30? what kind of life will that be? How do we anchor our lives in each other then? The roots of each other's times not intertwined; what kind of empathy would that be? would our conscience then be sufficiently enmeshed? what would be silly, and what would be profound? what innocuous thing would be funny and what would be intimate? 
what force of will will it take to erase all doubts and distances?

30

and then i pull the plug off the neon lights around that number. its a number. its a man made progression of time. The continuum of time does not really work that way. waiting, doing nothing, doing amazing things, partnering someone... all have their own time. and they need not crowd around the calendars and clocks. 
maybe the rains will tell me, or the mountains, or the dust bowl winds. but i am certain i will know for sure what time it is, soon. 

Comments

Strider said…
yeah man!
pull the plug!
its just a number.
there is no need to fall in line.
no need to grow up all of a sudden.
grow up you will. but it wont be because the earth completed certain numbers of revolutions around the sun after your birth. its your journey that shall age you. mature you.

bcc: self
Ajinkya said…
true that.
i was happy and i was young.
and i age rapidly, when i grow glum.
skrillex's bangarang turns me into an 18 yr old.. and sigur ros steals all vestiges of age.
air plane rides turn me into a gleeful 4 yr old, and monday mornings make me feel like a jaded 40 yr old.
Time's in the moment. not in its progression really.

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Withdrawal symptoms

Ctrl-tab
Ctrl-tab...
Scroll Scroll Scoll..
Alt-tab
Alt-tab...
Catch yourself slipping away.

Deep  breath. 

Close the browser. silence the mobile and turn it away.

Open an offline-real-paper diary. Stop your thighs from lolling impatiently. Stay still. 

Pick up a pen awkwardly. ahh, the fingers are stiff. It will take a  while for them to get used to holding a pen. Quick finger exercise - open the palm, stretch finger outwards, close into a fist, dig the fingers in. Repeat.
Ok now.. about to pick up the pen again, but eyes dart towards the screen. Tempted to check email.

Shut up. The last consequential email came two months ago. Nothing of consequence is online.

Pick up the pen. Don't fetishize the object now. Get on with it. Put it on paper, write a word and start it already. If I get to a sentence, perhaps I will get into a flow and won't have to look up from the paper at all. 

One sentence later.

Ahh. That was good. I am feeling good about myself. The sentence makes sense. …