Growing Up

My assertion to the title of the post is contrary to the general perception. While the calendar states I am somewhere close to 30s (and this is a conservative view, I am taking) but the mind refuses to accept the stark reality.


Like Shahid Afridi I had decided to pause on turning 18. I somehow found that age quite comfortable. In fact, some of the best times I had started from that age. A little earlier perhaps. But for the sake of not been extremely far from the truth, lets assume that to be 18. So, while the years went by, the sprightly young dynamism in me never took a backseat. I did choose to laze and while away the time I had and I spent most part of it yearning for the attention of one lady I had sort of taken a liking to, but other than that the amount of time I had I spent it with gutso and an energy that, now, I cannot even fathom I had.


In short, I had no time. There were exactly 42,351 things to be done. Life was trying to keep pace with me. And failing every day.


Now, from that time on to this day, I have missed the days in between. I mean, till about 23 (now, I am talking about the calendar age), I can recount every damned thing I did. I remember the emotions I felt pretty much every moment. The question is why ? Probably its because of the incredible people I had in my life at that time. My friends.


Today, I have pretty much lost all of them. It is an unfortunate reality which someday I will need to accept. And move on. While the relationship may still be strong and when we meet, it may still be magic. But what is lost is that daily grind of being swayed by unusually useless things, of just talking about life. Of sharing. I do not know what joy they have by pursuing a life which will provide them with unimaginable prosperity. Maybe, that is the only thing to live for. The telephone conversations keep the thread intact but does not allow it to fly.


Maybe, after all of this, I am still yet to grow up. I possibly, never will. Do I want/need to ?

Lost Love

My first brush with him was when I was twelve. Way too young to even understand with intensity any of the emotions he could invoke. Yet Abhas Kumar Ganguly or known to most as Kishore Kumar has had a profound impact on my early years.

I was besotted by the haunting aspect of his voice and was completely taken in by his ability to transform the mood I was in just by listening to him.

Koi Hota Jisko Apna...
Aye Tum Yaad Mujhe...
Kiska Rasta Dekhe...
Yeh Laal Rang...

These were my favourites. In the next 3-4 years, not an evening would be spent without my Philips two-in-one blaring his songs. Mother would just not figure out why I would listen to such tragic and fatalistic songs ! Of course, in that there was a reason. And as in most cases, the reason was a woman. That is however, another story for another day.

Today, I cannot quite fathom why I loved those songs. The only word that comes to my mind is 'inexplicable'. I do still remember the context but what I find absolutely deplorable or incomprehensible is what is it that appealed to me so much about them then and what is it about them that I am indifferent to them today ?

The answer is not in the songs. Maybe the answer is me. An unfortunate and sad fact of life is that I have grown up. And though I am still every bit the hopeless romantic at heart, I cannot by any stretch of imagination feel anything when I hear these songs.

It is a love story gone sour. We are still friends and we will always be, yet somewhere we have lost a chord. While there are still many such nuggets which tug at my heart, but that is nothing compared to the passion we shared. Maybe, this is how it was meant to end. That I be replaced as the most obsessive follower by some other 15 year old of the day and me looking back and wondering how I could have loved so much.

15 years - that is what it took for me to lose one of the most endearing part of my childhood.