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NINETY THREE

Year ends, Durga Pujo, my birthday makes me nostalgic. My nostalgia has always stemmed from melancholy, a sense of loneliness amidst the festivity. This time it is both the Pujo and my birthday that makes me nostalgic. Nostalgia is a doluble edged sword because what we remember from long ago is usually tinted with our own  desires and wishes. And then there are people who read too much into what you wrote. If you post on social media some random friend will ask you what’s wrong. If you write a blog someone who follows it ( surreptitiously) will be offended. Someone else will wonder what is going on with your life.  The thing is being a romantic has its perks, I can  look at things with tinted red eye glasses but sometimes when I look back at life I see it through some sepia tinted glasses. And in that not everything is bright, some are yellow with frayed edges turning grey, like a flower kept inside a book for long loses its color and becomes the color of the old pages of the book. That’s what happens to our memories. I find it hard these days to differentiate between one memory and another , often my mind meanders through different timelines in my life. Perhaps that’s what it means to grow old. 

Recently someone said to me that they were suddenly made aware that they were 31 years old. I chuckled.  I found it funny. I tried to think how old I feel. I always thought I would feel like 18 but turns out being 18 wasn’t all that good, although Bryan Adams still tries to convince me. But I feel myself to be at that age between 25 – 26. That time when I had made my shares of mistakes and I had thought I would never repeat them. You see now I know that I would repeat them and I also know I would survive them. So, now my knowledge makes me stronger to say yes when I know saying yes means facing yet another heartache. Over the years life has taught me more lessons about heartache that  I cared to learn. In fact I still feel they should include Relationship as one subject instead of Trigonometry at school. I mean sin, cos and all those theorems sure as hell didn’t help me when  I needed it. May be some do’s and don’t’s would have helped. But the now 30 something 26 year old likes to feel the small thrills of old music, old pics, old friends , New people ( read interesting folks) and that doesn’t make this a bad time of my life either. 

I suddenly realise I do not have the same fears of a 26 year old. And that can be liberating. It can make you feel blissful, take off a few burdens from your back, let you breath easy, enjoy your life, take it easy, smile more, and like someone said just enjoy.

I mustn’t forget it does make for wonderful day dreams too. 

So here I am turning some 30 something having started this year feeling like 40 something  ( bad influences ) now I’m back to myself. I am still the same, somewhat less damaged and confused, somewhat eager to be the oldgirl ( living up to her nickname and self image), who was “adulting” for a while. What is life if not lived in madness, Passion, in search of love and meaning of life? ! 

As I bring home this 100 days of scribbling blog, I am again beginning to look inwards than outwards for my inspiration to write, to live, to love… and in borrowed words,

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”



THE END.

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