The odd and odder realities of being an adult!
Three decades of life missed teaching me as well as never provided me a chance to learn that being tired can be a lifestyle. Yes that’s odd now! yet.
It reminds me that, life happens mostly through rare and regular oddities. Rare oddity is when you have a day that remotely resembles either simple peace or calm throughout the day with frequent intervals of little extended scenes of chaos.
Regular oddity is a day full of simple mishaps. It begins with a simple act of a messed up cup of morning (read milk) tea or a phone log with six seemingly lesser important missed calls before 10 AM at any given day. Blessed are the ones whose network comes to the rescue. Poor Mobile networks can either be a blessing or curse in a disguise. Like my otherwise feeble network gets me to calls, which I would happily skip.
But given a choice, I would be glad to skip some people, let me be honest. May be most people. It is not merely the reality of me, beginning to hate people, but compounded in astronomical proportions, that people are finding perfect ways to be incurably annoying in splendid ways.
At times, I cannot, but begin to wonder, about possibilities of becoming/turning Mowgli. Remember that long haired boy. What a blessed little chap he is, that he gets to live such a happy life.
Hey! Hey! I do know that like most other inane things, Happyness is significantly overrated, which reminds me of Woody Allen (don’t know why) the prophet/go-to advisor/modern day mundane-mentor of/to the mental malady called LOVE.
Thank God, we have marched past the month of Valentine’s. Gone are my days of being one! It is not that I am either sick of love or still love sick at my given peaceful and made-my-peace-with age of 34 (yes I am that many years, young now). Its just me, me the me, who fails to fathom the maddening mysterious ways of the tabooed futile four letter word.
In most ways, I still remain the dreamy eyed, also generously add the dreary eyed part too, and may be sprinkle a little cynicism and yes – there you get me! No. I am not against the romantic love, I am just aghast at its sheer cruelty. May be just tired of its monotonous, single, unending demand to act like you are in love and the need to come with a myriad less imaginative ways to prove it. NO. I am still talking about love, sorry not marriage, the most boring and another tiring institution. But nevertheless the holy and possibly life sustaining institution, for the most tired adults.
I guess, rather I started to believe that being tired all the time is the onset of adulthood. It is neo-coming of age. Like, one doesn’t necessarily come of age once in life, it happens at every considerable intervals in life- the first love, the first heartache, the death of a pet, the death of a parent, may be the first job. Or may be the few last times in life, when you made a promise and tried with an heartful truth to uphold it, may be the last time you prayed with a mighty desperation and a belief, that praying can set things right, may be the last time, you remembered well, when you smiled with your eyes and still believed in an innocence. Mostly the losses also announce this painful coming of age.
May be adulthood is not about being happy, its not about the loses, its not about being tired as well, its well knowing that you know only little so well. The rest, being the surprises that life throws at you – few times, menacingly and most times, mockingly.
Adulthood and being an adult can be paining, yet its promising.
For its a journey ahead.
A journey with a knowing burden. And that knowing can be unburdening.
Musings of a True Believer 
Adulthood is that strange place we desired to dwell in when we were younger, promising to ourselves when I am bigger I would do all of this, I’d be the master of my decisions. Yet, when adulthood comes onto us it isn’t rosy as we had imagined it would be like. The mystery of life.
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