D-word + M-word

I’m at that stage of my life where i can’t pretend to be something else. I am what i am. During my younger days, i thought i was so many things. All at once. Today, i look at myself only to see that i find it difficult to be even one thing at a time. As a kid, i assumed i won’t last a quarter of a century. Today i want to live at least 200 years, if not more. Given the rate my health lets me down, that figure sounds a bit too far-fetched though. My hair is falling — presumably in love with my toes — and greying at a rate even Vikram Bhatt can’t handle. My career is moving at a speed that has very little to do with displacement or distance. My phone has been on silent mode for almost three months now. I’ve been on idle mode for more than a year. The only thing worth feeling good about right now is me going back to college. Not that degrees matter in a sweaty country like ours but some things are best done quietly. It fills you with hope of stability and that’s worth the grind. Rest unassured, you can’t fall back on the years you wasted as a dropout. You’re neither Jobs nor Gates. And just when all these thoughts are messing your head, people in your house want you to settle down. So being a good son, you settle down on the sofa but that’s not enough. They want more. They want you to stop fooling around with your Peter Pan complex. They want you to show your seriousface. Maybe it means getting your name printed on a wedding card because you and your loved ones cherish seeing your name on a piece of paper. It has always been a motivational factor. Name on certificates. Name on trophies. Name on news pages. Name here. Name there. Name everywhere. Naam hona chahiye. And then the ultimate embossing of your name on an invitation card. The pride associated with it would have made sense if you had won your bride in a Swayamvara. Something is wrong. Small wonder why Lenka’s Everything At Once sounds so darn right to my gay ears.