i turned 36 a few days ago. it was about as low-key as turning 35 was last year: i went to work, got home, cut a cake. and just like last year, i didn't really feel like bringing in the birthday at midnight, although i did make it past 12.
guess the biggest difference was the company: mom and dad this year, as opposed to a couchsurfer from france last year. also, we went to church this year, breaking a streak of not sure how many years. mainly because they have evening mass on feast days in ireland (in mumbai, i'd never be sober enough to attend morning mass - that's how things used to be before i turned 35!)
and ironically, it was in church that it struck me that my birthday marked the point in my life that i've spent more time as an adult than i have as a child.
childhood doesn't seem very far away - especially the years leading to my turning 18. but in all honesty, the first half of my life does seem to be fading out of my memories. these days, it's hard to tell the actual memories apart from the "memories" conjured up by photos, conversations, and sometimes pure imagination.
just like i used to have these "lost years" of my childhood which were just a blur of reading, cycling, playing with my brother and neighbours, birthdays at home with family, summers at the beach, etc., i'm now conscious that i have these lost years of my adult life: drinking at dive bars, weekends at the beach with college buddies, goa trips every long weekend/year end/whatever have you, drinking myself silly every birthday (and usually writing unintelligible blog posts at the end of them). riding my bike for ever-increasing distances, camping at beaches when weather permitted, and in between, commuting to work, trying to find variety in the mundane, new ways to keep myself entertained.
the lost days (or months) when i lost my sanity, lost my grip on what i need to do and what i shouldn't. my love-hate relationship with sustainable, healthy living. the years spent in the long-fruitless pursuit of true, lasting love.
the only difference is, they aren't exactly lost. they're all saved for posterity. blogs, tweets, facebook, texts, email, photo archives. i'm not sure if orkut still exists, but i'm sure my "scraps" are saved in an archive somewhere. i have archives saved in formats that I don't have programs to open. i even have yellowing diaries with random pages scrawled on (since i could never maintain one with regularity) and obviously, i don't have the time to read through any of it.
at some point, memories become pointless. the highlights are nice, but i've come to terms with the fact that i'm a product of my past, and history is just fluff.
and so, here i am.
i have a long way to go.
i'm going to leave my trail.
but i have no idea where i'm going, and (obviously) how/when it's gonna end.
in a sense, i probably don't care anymore. i've ditched my compass and started following my whims.
i wonder if i'll find this post 36 years from now. and if i do, i wonder if i'll care.
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