Tuesday, April 26, 2005

22 and the catch

72 days (I need a calculator these days!) into my twenty-third year on this planet(ah! the cosmic touch), and I've started to realize the ephemerality of life...ok, even though I'd like to sound like some Tantric guru who's discovered the meaning of life - you know the type, the ones who keep saying "Shaaaanti"(Mandira Bedi??) - the reason for this blog is something that happens to all of us. At some time or the other.

Growing old (jeez! do I hate that three letter word or what?). Your metabolism slows down, your hair starts thinning(What wouldn't I do to have Colin Farell's genes!) , and a whole lot of changes happen, some of which I don't wanna put in words.

Everywhere I turn these days, there's only one fact that stares at me in the face, screaming its lungs out, stubbornly refusing to just lay down and die. The unrelenting truth is that I'm more than 2 years into my third decade of this current life (there's the Tantric touch again; must be all these Spiritual books that I keep reading), and that I possibly no longer fit the term 'young'. Why you ask? Ok, I present my case:

You-are-old-dumbass!-Incident 1: Was watching Maria Sharapova (what legs maan!!) playing at the ...err...umm...never mind (need to start taking those memory tablets again), playing at some goddamn Open sponsored by some goddamn bank in some goddamn country. And as it happens with me quite often (especially after watching a member of that divine species Homo Womano Longo Legens), that night I dreamt I was playing with Maria herself (just a harmless match; nothing else I swear!). And I was getting whipped badly - err guess 'whipped' is a misleading verb, but you get the 'picture'. And out of the blue...kaRAAASH, woke up to reality and a really sore head. And amidst all the throbbing pain and the regrets of an unfinished match, it dawned on me that she was too young!! Yeah, she's a wonderful, leggy 18 now, but for a guy like me, 18 is just too young (ha! this is where Maria Sharapova gets stood up by me). And if you are as poor a judge of age as I am, that takes a lot of fun out of the little "Bird Watching" that one indulges in - you are never sure how old she is.

Girls just keep getting younger...sheesh, and prettier;). And adding to that list of eligible-but-young are a whole trove of 'ilam' actresses who are (to put it mildly) heart-wrenchingly-soul-shatteringly-sleep-deprivingly beautiful. Just too young. Ain't that a pity?

Can't-turn-back-time- Incident 2: Next come the little buggers on the street playing cricket. Damn them! Damn them all to hell! They call out, "Unnnnnncle! Ball Uncle! please Unclllllllle! Unccccccccle." Arrrgh. Gaaahh. I pretend not to hear. But it rings out again:"UNCCCCLE." There's no mistaking its meaning or the subject in question. I turn around slowly. Uncle?? UNCLE??! who? me?? UNNCLE?? Naa, you must be mistaken, but the kid looks at me in the eye, grinning menacingly, I'll say that which must not be said if you don't throw the ball. I sigh. This surely must be my day of reckoning, I start to think, stroll over to where the ball has rolled dead to a stop, pick it up and vent all my frustration and anger in a searing throw back to the kid, Take that, Now who's the Uncle huh? But he catches it effortlessly, Is that all you've got?, smirks, and calls out,"Thanks UNCLLE! Good throw!" Gaaaaaaaaaaaah. Thanks kid. Thanks a lot. I needed that. Every bit of that. What goes around comes around. Karma I guess (here I go again!).

Down-the-hill-from-now-on-Incident 3: "What in God's name am I doing here?" I wonder, as I stand barefooted in the depressingly damp confines of my bathroom. Especially as I'd set out for the kitchen to grab some grub. Evidently the kitchen and the bathroom had switched places. Elementary(did I hear someone say "absent-minded"?).

"Now why doesn't the frikkin radio work?" I say out aloud, fiddling with the remote, pressing the buttons on the panel into their sockets until there's nothing left to press. I curse the Korean manufacturer, questioning his parentage, doubting his sexual proclivities, until I look up...Damn, dammmmmn, Why does this have to happen to me? How would the radio work? Especially when the remote is the TV's??

Brute Fact 1 : Nobody holds 'Summer camps' for people over twenty. Is there any chance I can sue for discrimination/emotional trauma?

Brute Fact 2: The body becomes an alarm clock. It's disgusting, especially when your visits to the loo start following a time table.

Last-nail-in-the-coffin: Nothing else is more enlightening about my age than nosy relatives asking pointed questions about my "eligibility". And to top it all, Ma begins,"There's this girl...", and the rest dies away as I take to my heels. Spare me, I'm outttta here!! Jesus! Give a guy a break will you??

There. I have it off my chest. Feels better to let it out once in a while. Now I'm at peace with myself. Shaaaanti.

But being "old" does have its benefits -ahem- but that I'll save for a future blog.

Until then, Happy Aging my fellow beings.


The Man Who Wasnt There said...

ha ha! Hilarious! I would laughed out even loud if not for the irony that it is actually the post with it's blunt and brutal reality which is laughing at me..us (if any consolation!;)) anyway "they" say "old men" are sexier...but hey what dost that guy haunted by his zodiac sign know?:(

Brood Mode said...

Uncle!!!! u hit the nail on the head with the "girls getting younger and prettier part"
Kudos! u have not lost all ur faculties yet.... an eye for the "right detail" is still there...

You-are-old-dumbass....ahem koff koff!! being a well wisher of ur ego and of-course the respect for age is always there( b4 u make smart ass comments abt me being older... i'm talking abt the young at heart concept), i will refrain from comment. Still i can't resist telling u the dream was a li'l too uh...."far fetched", shall we call it?
But u really can get there someday.Let senility not stop u from taking up the challenge. So i shall we begin with some addresses of tennis coaches in chennai?

Was it something like -
"Where is all the food? And y is the sink on the floor???


Oh Shit i'm in the loo. And where did i put my hands??? Oh Yuckeeeeeeeeee"

I can make large (font-size- 50 point) posters that will help u differentiate kitchen from loo..

How 'bout...

"LOO!!!! WARNING - No edible stuff here. Then of course it's a matter of choice"

"KITCHEN - Enter only for intake.Go next door for the rest!"

Oh i'm lovin' this!!!

musafir said...

@ Girish...!: *grinning sheepishly* yeah, brutal it is. but what's life without a laugh eh? "old" men are sexier, but *sigh* wish they saw it that way...and it's always nice to have some company ;)

@ brood_mode:* Tempted to call you 'Auuunty', but will refrain out of a need for self-preservation *...do you really make those posters?? need a few desperately. esp ones which say "This is where you live" "This is where you sleep" you get the drift...hahaha, it's that bad at times!!

And youhave no idea how "far-reaching" my dreams are!!

consumerdemon said...

brat 23 is not old. well you are older than me but still... call yourself old when you are 50. seriously man. i have said it before and ill say it again, kids are evil - they have been put on this earth to make our lives miserable.
maria sharapova? 18.. even if she wasnt 18 she's waaaay outta your league man. but 18's not all that young for a 23 yr old. if all you are doing is looking ;) ill shut up now.

musafir said...

@ consumerdemon: yeah, just letting out some steam. but I still am 22 years 'old'.

agree with you about kids these days. you just have to pop into landmark these days to get a taste!! and the trouble is they are getting smarter!!

about Sharapova, let me just say I aim for the 'stars' ok? ;) it's a pity she's not in my league

and yes, I was only 'looking'!!