Premium
This is an archive article published on March 8, 2005

Puzzle called life

Once upon a time, our parents were young. And not so wise. Or thoughtful — they might have been frivolous, even. I wonder how often the...

.

Once upon a time, our parents were young. And not so wise. Or thoughtful — they might have been frivolous, even. I wonder how often they think back to the road not taken. To the various crossroads where they had to decide, between friends, partners, possible futures. When did they decide their lives had meaning? Did they make that up, sitting all alone, gazing into space? Or did meaning just arrive, thrust in their laps one fine morning?

Was there a time when it didn’t feel like the weight of the world was on their shoulders, when they could just shrug and all would be well? When no one was dependent on them for food or shelter or emotional stability? When they could just get into the car on a whim and drive to Kasauli, without having to worry about diapers or baby-sitters or down payments? When a job was just a job, not necessarily a career? Was there a time when they knew what it meant to be cool, what was really in, and no, I’m not talking about sensible wear.

As young adults, did they look into the future and envision middle age, see the roadblocks, the children, the kind of lives they would lead — did the vision seem warm and fuzzy or did it make their skin crawl?

Story continues below this ad

‘‘Youth is wasted on the young,’’ some famous dead person said. Another one of those mind-blowing life lessons they don’t teach you at school. What’s the point of an education when you don’t learn the first thing about life? About how fleeting everything is and how time catches up with all of us. About how you’ll leave home, convinced that your parents represent the enemy, only to come back hesitantly, having realised that the real world is a whole lot nastier than you thought and a whole lot readier to bite your head off for the slightest transgression.

They don’t warn you about the shooting pain you get in your heart when you see that your folks are looking older. The surreal feeling you get when you realise you can’t be a brat forever, that you’ll have to grow up too and make some of those tough decisions on your own. And there’s no safety net anymore — you’re flying solo.

Years from now, I’m not sure what I see — a bunch of kids and a happy family, or a rocking chair and a whole lotta cats — but either way, it’s something I’ll have to meet head-on.

Except that life has this uncanny knack of tripping you up. And you never can tell how the movie will end. Kind of unsettling — what if you’re not even a part of the masterplan?

Latest Comment
Post Comment
Read Comments
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement