My earliest memory is being carried down an escalator in my Dad’s arms and talking (at least I think I was. Maybe I was just listening.) to my Mom’s Faiba. Later I discovered it was the Juhu Centaur and I had danced with the live band there. I still don’t know how old I was, but brings chills down my spine when I think I am ‘thinking’ since then!
So I exist.
Since this year, I can almost think and reminisce about 25 years of my existence. The escalator memory still seems just a blink away. At most times, I either find myself looking ahead or back in the time fabric.
I think of what will give me joy, if done, in the future. And leave it at that. As if it will happen by itself. Joy, in the present, is always ‘postponable’. Say I want to read this lovely book, I find myself Facebooking for an hour instead. Ah yes, maybe everybody does that to a good book.
Postponing joy is not a good thing at all.
Maybe I want some things to happen, some places I wanna go. I should keep trying for them while enjoying my journey leading up to them, instead of ‘waiting it out’ and then finding a fizzled form of happiness when and if I eventually get there.
The funniest thing is, I have actually implemented my own advice above, in our courtship days. These days, I find it difficult to keep thoughts aligned and enjoy the present.
I don’t see children often. When I happen to meet the little ones in the society, I observe them and find the deepest form of happiness and contentment (most of the times, when they’re playing in the evening). I remember how happy I was as a child.
The reason was the world was full of possibilities. And there was no other way I’d imagine my life to be.
With the exposure to too much information, I have forgotten that I am not here just to absorb others’ lives and crave things other than my own surroundings. I remember I liked the fancy stuff the city kids had, or did. Or maybe from the books I read, of times that were not my own. But I had always known that I too live in my own peculiar world, I’d never wanted it just because they had it. I had my beautiful stuff too. I climbed trees, and fed goats. I bet they would’ve loved to be able to do that…(or not, who cared!)
Now, I have fallen in the trap of observing more and doing less. Of not stopping to smell the flowers, ‘cos either there exist better ones elsewhere in the world. Or maybe I’ll smell the new flower that’ll bloom next spring. I am postponing joy! For a better moment (which sure is) awaiting me…
So let’s not postpone it anymore, let me bask in delight over publishing this post, which is as true a ramble as they come! I am not even gonna read what I wrote till I publish it. I am writing, not postponing joy anymore.