This was a blogging topic in Redroom. The instant I saw it in my mailbox, I thought, I would like to write something about it, but it lay in my mailbox just like that. I didn’t log in Redroom, neither did I write anything about this topic. I think more than three months passed just like that. But today, as if I have no other work, I thought I will write about it, here, now, because I seem to think a lot about getting old, of growing old, of the stages of life.
First, traveling in the east with the young graduates made me think I have grown so old. I found that their thought process and mine differed. I found that their interest and mine differed too. If they wanted to roam around every small town in the place we visited, I remained hooked in the corner of the gup’s office the whole day. But I watched hell lot of movies. This is the recent instance that made me think I’m already so old. But there were many things which made me wonder if everyone had to follow the same steps in growing up.
Why do I hear, always, always and always, people talking about masters? What am I gonna master in the first place and what do I want to master in my life? Yes, this is one step of growing older, of climbing up the career staircase. I don’t like this about growing old.
As you grow older, you get married, give birth, buy land, hoard properties, shoulder bigger responsibilities, compromise more, and many more. I don’t like this either about getting older.
But yes, I like staying with my mother; this time, me looking after her. I like seeing bigger picture of the world. I like sitting among the learned, the senior officials and conversing at their terms.
I like having matured view of things: as in, I like seeing every single entity related to other entities; I like seeing life as being dependent on many other factors in life. I like the maturity that comes with age that relationship is the most important factor in happiness of a person; and I like the knowledge that comes with age that, beauty lasts for a while and whether we are poor, cruel, kind, rich or ugly, we all have one basic common duty to ourselves: to be honest and true.
I even like the fact that as one grows older, the taste in food and clothes changes. I no longer care if I’m wearing an outdated outfit; I no longer care if I’m shouting in the middle of town; I no longer care if someone sees me in town carrying a heavy load on my back. And I like the fact that, I no longer complain about bitter fruits and vegetables.
As I grow older I find that I have fewer complaints about life. More important than anything is that, as I grow older, I find that, life becomes more beautiful – you know that the imperfections can always be there and you can enjoy it or you will only groan not being able to perfect it all.