Precious tears rolled down his face
Insipid coffee in his hands
The falling drops flew against the pane
The eerie silence grew deafening
Every time he opened his eyes
Remembered again
Playpen in the lounge stayed empty
Applesauce was now fermenting
The silence was still deafening
Tinkling laughter lay buried in the past
Even she lay alone in the dark
Remembering when
It is a funny sort of feeling when you wake up and spend the better half of the hour staring up at the ceiling. The paint is chipping in a few places, and from the last rain bout there is a small bump in the corner threatening to crack open. “Watching paint dry” wasn’t as boring as I thought it would be.
I spent the latter part of yesterday counseling my younger cousin on college and general life lessons. After a very long discussion pertaining to family, friends and life hacks… She stopped me mid-sentence to ask.
“Aapi, when did you grow up?”
When did this happen? When did I grow up? Have I grown up?
The novelty of becoming an adult fades as you exit adolescence. To be held accountable for everything you say, do or act on. The beliefs you have, the values and morals you live by… these have all been established. You begin to see the world as it really is, various shades and colors and suddenly it isn’t a game anymore. It’s a challenge.
When we are younger, we are still learning who we are. We are learning who people are. We see our parents as an entity, authority. As we get older we see them as people, people with tempers, opinions and people capable of mistakes. We think two steps ahead, we’re wiser. We start agreeing with the cliches, how wisdom comes with age, and how experience trumps all.
Bittersweet realizations summarize that transition. But the most important thing we realize is, who we are. Where we stand. What we are capable of. Now when I see people around me getting married, and having kids it doesn’t shock me anymore. I do not dismiss it. I understand them being ready to move ahead.
I’m not entirely sure what I want to say while I am typing this. I think I just want to think out loud, or on paper. Maybe I need external gratification, maybe I need to just rationalize. I feel I’ve made a leap. Whether there are ‘bounds’ left to come, is better left unknown.
I hope in my haste to grow up, I don’t forget the spark and joy I coveted as a child, as a teenager, as a rambling young adult. I hope I can still run across a field barefoot, and spin in circles in the rain. I want to swing as high as possible, and eat all the unhealthy food that tastes better than it should. I want to read my trashy novels, and balance them out with a thriller. I want to get excited for cultural events, and dress up and go out. I want to fulfill my social responsibility but I want to find the happiness in everything I do. I don’t want to be running like a hamster on a wheel, trying to keep up with the rest of the world. I want to know my rights, and exercise them.
The paint is a little cracked and faded, but you can barely notice. Its a perfectly sound ceiling, and a perfectly functional roof for all its past pitfalls.
I want to be a good adult. The kind with a bit of childhood hope still in them.
unsatiatedexpectations 