Growing Up, Growing Old

I haven’t written in a while. I cringe in shame and misery when I look at blogs that are constantly updated. At least more often than mine. Bleh. I think I also cringe in a slight shade of green.

It’s not as though there hasn’t been any train of thought. Oh mind you, many trains have come and gone. Guess it never made it to the right stop. Having said that, now that the train seems to have made the right stop, the thought seems to have derailed. Bleh.

I’ve observed and learnt – or so I like to think – a lot the past nineteen odd days. I always seem to have my little moments of wisdom gush forth when I am in India. I  put it down to the abundance of time I have on my hands, which is a lot in comparison to the mad rush back home. Therefore, when you have time to think, that Freudian unconscious material resurfaces.

I’ve gained weight. Lots of it. I don’t mind because I don’t believe in diets and firmly think that exercise is important. So I have gained weight not because of the load of beef I ate but because I didn’t do my stretches regularly. But then I don’t really mind. I can still manage to wear my jeans, that houses a whole load of Mama’s genes.

I’ve also learnt to conform to conventions. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, the university has a dress code so shut up and do what they say. I think I violated it once by wearing a shirt, but the ali baba pants was a bit of a put off IMHO. It doesn’t make sense to sign a petition or speak at (what I assume to be) futile Student Council meetings because they don’t fucking care what you have to say. Now there’s my pessimism and apathy speaking. Dante said that Apathy was the worstest of sins. Well to Hell with him. LoL. No pun intended there.

Even in the case of my womanhood – yes I’m proud to call myself and woman and be one 🙂 – I have accepted that I will be married one day and live with a stranger whom I learn to call my husband and hopefully love and pray for a happily ever after. Some might call this a delusion but I believe this to be the reality of things. I would like legitimate children. For which I need a legitimate husband. I would also need to please society. Yes I know that we don’t live to please others but which idealistic world do we live in?

One thing I’ve realised in this process of growing up is that with education – for once yes I do thank the education I have received so far. I thank the teachers and not the system that pays them or makes them teachers – you begin to realise that when you are in your late teens you look at the system of society from outside, from one perspective. Which is why most of us girls have that pro-feminist-I-don’t-need-a-man stand and apparently most Indians, the oh-let’s-share-in-Communism.

Then, comes the twenties. You begin to see what is wrong more clearly because you are in the system, either working or studying. I’m not taking in to consideration those who while their time at home doing nothing or those who get hitched.

When you work, obviously you become part of the system. While in college you get to see the aspects of the management, governmental influences, teachers in a different light because tertiary education is not as bound as school. In most places at least.

While being a newbie in the system, you start to see what is wrong. You voice out your just-out-of-school opinions which in most places are met with a nod and encouragement. Later upon reflection you cringe once more, this time with oh-my-that-was-so-juvenile-facepalm moment.

A few months later or an year or two later, you stop cribbing and simultaneously get comfortable with the place. If you are working, you start to manage better with your pay and if a student, before you know it, life is swell.

Once in a way you encounter people just entering the threshold of adulthood. You laugh at their oh-my-that-was-so-juvenile-facepalm moments and dismally think, give it a few more years. You’ll have your palm on your face.

It’s funny how some people like myself do not like to be patronised but do not for a second think that there are others like me who do not want to be patronised. Oh well.

Growing up, I’ve also realise that all things, good and bad, happen really fast.

Before you know it, you are sitting in an open verandah with a cigarette in hand a chai  in another and reminiscing, regretting, stubbing your cigarette butt and moving on with the empty tea-cup.

(Yes, in a previous post I spoke of growing up. Ironically that too was written last June, after my Summer holidays.)

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3 thoughts on “Growing Up, Growing Old

  1. avrinajoslin says:

    I haven’t read all your posts, in fact this is the only one! But I love how much of ‘you’ is in what you write! A very close critic of mine (a Sri Lankan btw!) constantly tells me that I have to cut down on the ‘I’ factor of what I write. He has even gone to the extent of telling me that I’ve made blogging a ‘rant box’! I find no need to justify myself, especially after reading what you’ve written, afterall a writer can’t be one without having a part of himself/herself etched down on paper. I believe it is the ‘I’ that comes first. Looking forward to read more. And thank you for the impetus to blog!

    Like

    • jillinthebox90 says:

      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment 🙂 I do agree with this Sri Lankan friend of yours to an extent but in the case of a blog, I firmly believe that it is a “rant box” and the only place where your opinions could be publicly stated 😀 As for the last paragraph, I seem to be getting similar comments and *ahem* reactions from all my girls! Teehee.

      Like

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