The Precipice

3 Sep

It wasn’t long ago when I wrote a post about being completely oblivious of my age and my so called aging process. It was here that I spoke about how my friends and I feel like we’re not a day older than 20 because of just how randomly we’re flitting through our life one day at a time without realizing how the years have passed us by – I mean that’s how oblivious aging is to us. I’m not quite sure we’re oblivious about the number game though. The big 3 oh has us making mental checks and notes and most importantly, making us feel O.L.D.

But while we’re floating around in our happy bubbles thinking we’ve got life and time by our side (haha, I can hear the reality of it all just scoff in my face), I think we’re just about finally reaching this crazy precipice I like to call “the realisation of growing up”.

First of all, I have no idea what “growing up” entails. Does it mean having a job, paying your bills, getting your shit together and all that jazz? Or does it mean being getting all existential, deep, self-aware, mature and what not? Or does it mean striking off these developmental milestones in neat little, scheduled ticks and feeling very comfortable, “done” (if you know what I mean), relaxed, secure and not to mention sheep-mentalised? I’m sure you know of the lines “beta, get married…this is the right time. 8 months later is too late. you will become old and no one will want to marry you” or the “you must have babies now. 8 months later is too late. you will become old and you won’t want to bring up babies when you’re old” or the “beta, buy gold, buy land, buy a house, buy a fridge magnet, buy this, buy that” so many of us are privileged of hearing. No? Hahaha. *thank you mom for never giving us this “privilege”* So yes, I’m not sure what “growing up” really means.

Except maybe now we’re getting sure shot hints of it.

Like when you realize you just cannot, for the life of you, take stupidity in any form, like you could before. You can now spot stupidity from a mile away and you want to run as far away from it as you can. Except sometimes murphy ensures it lands right in your keep-your-crap-away-from-me lap. Don’t you feel your tolerance of annoyance in the form of people slacking, being cheeky, being brazen, silly, too-“clever”-for-their-own-good, idiotic, stupid and a host of things more, decreasing at alarming levels? It makes you suddenly feel like all those aunties who once had a problem with everything you did (because no generation will ever admit to being annoying or bad or rude – “we weren’t like the kids of today, look at how kids of today are” is a standard everyone has had thrown at them and given in return to people as well).

Or when you look all around you and wonder if it’s just you or if most young people now all look the same. Like really young people who ought not to care about the things they care so much about; some fine examples being red lipstick, poker-straight hair, RayBans, thigh gaps and the worst of all – the belief that pouting in every frame is cool. Jesus. Now I really do sound old. Maybe the ways of evolution are changing at such a rapid pace where kids need to focus on things people my age are just about thinking of focusing on. Let’s leave thigh gaps out of this one though – my generation has perhaps tried and long given up, I think. It’s beyond our wildest capabilities and we love food too much, I presume.

But the most glaring thing that does stand out today is the constant need to be glued to a screen. It’s alarming how every moment must be captured and be made into something extraordinary. For someone who does have a problem disconnecting from her phone, it is difficult to imagine just which stage we’re at and how deep in this muck we’re lodged in. I do click pictures too, especially when I think they ought to be clicked. But when I do look back at the funnest times I’ve had or am having, it’s heart-warming to see a sparse, if not an empty gallery. Of course we could have so many debates about this which would last an eternity and beyond. But it’s no rocket science to guess when your memories of a time were the best and at their clearest, most refined state – when you were busy capturing picture after picture or when you were completely engaged with/in those moments and completely disconnected from your device. It’s no rocket science.

The only thing more glaring of our growing old than the previous point is just how easy it is to pile on the kilos and how herculean it is to get even a fraction of it off. Now that is just mean.

Also, it feels like a precipice I’m now standing at because most of us at some point firmly believe that we will be forever young, if not in looks, then by knowledge and social ways. It feels empowering to be on the same level, if not far behind, from the world’s new ways. Of course that’s life now calling a bluff on us because look at me feeling appalled more than I thought assessing generational gaps would make me feel. And I wasn’t even out there to actively assess these gaps. They’ve just become glaring now. It is scary sometimes. But you’ve got to take that leap off this cliff and soar towards places that are meant for you to thrive in. Evolution and growing up, they call it. Oh well.



One Response to “The Precipice”


  1. Time Bubble | Babska's Journey - January 14, 2016

    […] was here and here that I wrote about this weird time warp sort of contraption that I’m floating in… you […]


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