Thursday, April 14, 2011

Downhill, and No Ropes To Pull You Up

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Some time back I received an email forward extolling the virtues of the Quarter-life Crisis. Such a comforting thought it was, to know that I’m not the only one suffering out here in this woebegone world, and yet, I would have preferred to be the odd one out!

But what do I call it when I find the most beautiful pair of slippers in a showroom one fine evening, costing only about half of a ten thousand? When the allure of crystalline heels and strappy boot flaps on discount becomes too hard to resist? And when I remember that it’s not Papa dearest who’s gonna be making the payment, but me, and so I turn away?

What do I call it when I change not one, not two but three jobs in two years? When I find out after being stuck in a job I intensely dislike that I made a mistake in choosing the money and not the profile? When I think about myself twenty years ago, and what I am now was not at all what I had in mind then?

Is it still a mid-life crisis when I step into the beauty parlor with a beautiful mane and step out with a shorn pate-like stilt of hair? When I step into the parlor the next day to turn the slick look into wild curls? And when I return the day after to get it all cut off, and the receptionist simpers about what an excellent customer I am?

I met a friend the other day at the mall, and the poor soul was burdened with little nieces and nephews, all screaming their heads off. Was it still a crisis that she had the authority to herd them back home safely, but not the authority to keep them in line with a raised voice? When passers-by smirked that the woman did not know how to keep her children in check?

A single day trip out of station gets you thinking on finances. And being stranded with an over-the-head billed credit card and an empty debit card is no joke I tell you! Three servicing trips for one motorbike in one month, an entire month’s pay gone in seconds as you pay overdue bills, an entire year’s saving struck down by a single trip to the beautiful, beautiful boutique!

Life is no longer about heartbreaks, or wanting to meet someone decent, or falling in love with infinite number of people anymore. It’s about just settling down, wherever you are, pushing roots into the soil and creating an ambiance of being at home. Your home. And your life partner can come along and join you after this is done.

Or you’re already married to the guy of your dreams and it’s about making sure you have support from him so that you can give support in return. You don’t care about whirlwind romances or romantic candle lights anymore because you now know it’s the small gestures which count. A hand-held walk down a busy street means much more than a boring dinner breathing in candle fumes.

You have your set of principles and your life should run according to them, and then something comes up and your whole world starts to fall about your ears. And you go running home to lick your wounds in peace and you realize that sometimes it’s easier to just live and let live. And at others, it’s important to stick to your values and beliefs. And you have no idea how to define these two times from each other.

You miss your friends, but on the crazy time this world runs on, you have no space to keep in touch. And when you do, you are insecure about your place in their lives because you’ve been so far away from them for so long now. And at the end of the whole perplexing, baffling confusion, you stop for a second and think that maybe your friend is going through the same conflict.

And you’re looking to get a job which you think would suit you, but either the pay is really bad, or the profile is not open, or you don’t have enough years of experience for it. And you rant and rave at God that He’s ruining your life, and that He doesn’t care and that you hate Him. And God in his great way, ignores your outburst and goes on, knowing that in twenty years you’re gonna be glad things were the way they are now.

Is this still quarter-life crisis? Or maybe it’s past quarter-century of your life crisis. I’ve crossed twenty-five, and I can’t seem to find a steady rock on which to place my foot. Everything is rolling downhill and no ropes dangle about me to pull me up.

Life is scary, and the only comfort I find is in the confines of my newest dress. Sure, it cost me a pretty penny, but the embrace of the soft silk and the outrageous cut of the fabric is sweeter than the sweetest energy drink in the whole product line!

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