Two and twenty four

This blog turns two! And if you ask me, I turn just a bit older next month. We are at post #34 and to all the readers (and my mom), thanks for taking four minutes out of your day to hear me out.

The last post was submitted in a hurry at Cochin Airport. After having spent the most adult NYE of my life, on the Singapore Airlines plane where we didn’t even get a tiny chocolate for being on board at midnight, I had to take the four hours on air to process my age. As much as I could that is,  while fighting off the teenager next to me, who kept intruding my leg space in his sleep. Yes, I have very organically become a grumpy adult no?

I don’t really know when having dishes piled up in the sink started bothering me on a psychological level. Or when the smile lines started to show up. Sometimes when I look in the mirror after a particularly busy and stressful week I am surprised at the very adult woman who looks back. Where did those dark circles appear from and where is the rest of my hairline? Wasn’t there a gawky teenager just a few years back? I don’t like wake-up calls in general and I didn’t like this one either.

I decided to take matters into my own hands and sign up for Indian classical music classes, a task I had put off during my 12th board exams for “when I am older”. As I start with the beginner notes (yet again) I have one classmate. It is a five year old little bespectacled girl who yawns, gets distracted, and peeks into my notebook throughout the class. I didn’t need a mirror to see myself again. Maybe she too sang classic Bollywood songs at home like Yeh Ishq Hai or Gulabi Aankhein (Wonderwall for Indians, as a new friend puts it) and her parents similarly decided to put their jumpy kid’s energy to good use. As I hid a smile from the music teacher, I secretly hoped she makes the most of her childhood like I did before “financial year” creeps into her vocabulary.

The days fly by, or in Singapore’s case, rainy days. An unforeseen monsoon has hit the country and temperatures have dropped to lows. I personally love this weather as a Kochi girl, but what I love more is my investment in a pair of Crocs right before the weather flipped. I had always though Crocs were an “unemployed dude who wanders in polyester shorts” kind of fashion choice, you know? For people who haven’t ever consciously made a fashion choice. But after moving here, I realise the practicality of Crocs. Regardless of age and gender, Crocs are sported with a lot of personality with their “jibbitz”; even by med students ! I had a great time picking little alphabets and decorative flowers, enjoying the childishness of it all. Only to arrive at my next music class to realise that the five-year-old from my class and the next class had way cooler “jibbitz” taste than me. Moving on.

When I think about it, some people I met almost every day when I started this blog, I rarely speak to now. Not because of any sour grapes, just due to a busy career or geographical distance or family obligations taking more of our time. I used to drink campus chai in cold Ahmedabad evenings while writing these posts and now I drink kopi in rainy Singapore mornings. I used to worry about exams and grade points, and now I worry about – well appraisals are a form of exams I guess. Some things don’t change gladly. I still feel my bones shudder before playing the voice message from my parent after three missed calls. I still obsess over fountain pens and new year diaries, (and now, pineapple buns that were luckily spotted next to the stationery shop). The yoga instructor from the gym that I quietly resubscribed to (analyst 15 is real guys) is just as deadly with dry humour as before.

I guess you can always make new friends, new habits, new routines; whether at the beginning of the year or later, all while cherishing your happy memories and tough lessons. I love that the rainy weather and the Chinese New Year festivity gives  so much of a “fresh start energy” to the surrounding, like new school years in India. Maybe I will have a boring adult birthday too in the year of the wood snake, especially because the expensive milestone birthday in the year of the dragon is still burning a hole in my pocket. For some unknown reason, I have become more responsible. Ever so slightly more.