Age-old angst

I thought I would be doing the right thing by sharing my trepidation with my elder brother. Bad idea it turned out to be. It was the opportunity he was waiting for: he gave me a paternalistic lecture on how I was no longer young, how my love life was D.O.A, how I was nowhere near earning a salary in six figures and that it is time that I seriously considered the marriage option. Once he had hung the M-word around my neck like an albatross, I knew it was time for me to cry on someone else8217;s shoulder. And it seemed that I ran into just the right person.

While watching me get ready for a friend8217;s marriage, my six-year-old niece started analysing my outfit. She gave me her take on how sweaters don8217;t go well with saris, how my hair should be left loose, and how I needed to use make up! All this while she was in front of the mirror, trying out everything she could lay her hands on.

I finally lost my cool and snapped, 8220;For all this advice that you are giving me, how old are you, Miss?8221; 8220;Tikhteen!8221; she lisped back defiantly.

Well, if she is 16, that would make me 33! So much for despairing over turning 23! The brat did provide some perspective on how, ultimately, age is always relative.