Settling Down

Sitting in 8 degrees celsius, with unwashed hair and tucked under the quilt on Christmas Day, I’m thinking a zillion things and have my brain running around in different directions right now. 

I am wondering what exactly do we adults mean when we use the phrase ‘settling down’. In India, it usually indicates towards marriage, but of course it has several connotations. 

Being on the move is cool, trendy and probably in some minds it reserves the image of Ranbir Kapoor movies. When you’re the one with skates on your feet, you feel the pinch on your toes and the bruise on your knees. When you’re in the middle of being young and heading towards seniority in adulthood, you land up asking yourself several questions about stability, settling down and peace and quiet. 

Cut to: You’re on one of those short-lived phases of being stationed at one place in life and then you feel the youth pumping in your veins urging you to get out there and see even more places. That is what happens when your hormones go through waves and curves which could beat even the Atlantic Ocean because you’re not sure yourself what you want and what makes you happy. 

Adults (of the senior wing) often tell you that time will do the needful and let time takes its own course et all. And then, when time has come around and you’re settled in life you will miss those nightly walks on cobbled paths, the solitary times by the beach, the camping trips and the scuba dives. And then, the adult you will crave for the cells of youth.

Such is life: always a cycle between what you have and what you crave. 

People Watching: He

He makes his way to work every morning, knowing fully well that today will be no different from yesterday and tomorrow, none the brighter. 

He hopes the rude man in his office would be on leave, or at least away on client calls. He wishes that the sweet group of new joinees will over-estimate their appetite, order more than they can eat and pass on the leftovers to him. He would usually avoid the leftovers and considered it disrespectful but these newbies have a polite way of passing on food that seems less demeaning. He likes that about them. 

His days are never his own, always based on the temperament of the people in his office. They wake up from the wrong side of their bed and he stands on the receiving end of growls. Their diets sustain because of him, their binges and cravings are his to handle, their spills and drops are his to clean and their impromptu demands are his to fulfill. 

He never understands them, and has now stopped reading much into it. He finds no sense in their hypocrisy and narrates these tales to his mother sometimes. They share a hearty laugh at the plight of the man with the paunch: how he struggles with his food and sustains Mondays on fruits, carrots and cucumber. The week rolls by and when Friday arrives, he is back to his oily roll and the cheese layered cake. Then there is the woman who always seems to drop her drink on the table leading to screeches by people who share the space. She drops her water, ice tea and juice and has ruined many a documents in the aftermath. There was a girl who’s now quit, but she came in every morning with her muddy shoes and stained the marble that he had painfully sparkled. He wondered where she went to make a mess of her expensive shoes and urged to clean it for her. He didn’t care much about the girl herself but wanted to do her the favor to save his floor from her wrath. 

People have come and gone, joined and left and some have even moved on to other cities, they say. But the bunch at hand right now keeps him well and therefore when he takes a quick nap in the noon he wishes them well, too.

Memories on Sale: And they're pricey!

With the world and its relative getting married, my social media feed is overflowing with the news. There are notifications for every part of the process; A to Z. 

The notifications bubble and the virtual PDA is something I have accustomed myself to. But the new one in the kitty is the unending albums that people upload before they get married. 

It is a ‘to each their own’ world but, in my opinion the photo shoots that to-be couples setup are just too unreal and artificial. The hug and the kiss, the warmth and the wink, the concern and cajole: none of it is true. Its not like someone is watching your life pass by and snapping up those moments that you can call memories. When you look back at those pictures, its not like you will remember that day you spent with your loved one by the waterfall; all you’re going to recall is how the day was spent with the photographer on your tow. 

Out of curiosity, I had once checked one of the photographer’s profiles and stumbled on the price card. They charge per set per attire for the couple in question. So, memories are sold depending on the backdrop and the settings of the scenic beauty around you: you can set up even memories now! Sigh!