Dreamers vs Realists

From yesterday's episode of Modern Family:

"There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not, the opposite is true. See, the dreamers need the realists to keep the dreamers from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists? Well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground."

Art of ageing

"Time and Tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty."

- Robert Frost

If I admired Robert Frost before, I absolutely adore him after coming across this quote. Ten years ago, I absolutely believed in my ability to withstand this constant obsession with age that some women have. So, when I discovered my first strand of grey hair at 28, I was quite delighted. I have always been fascinated with sporting a lock of white hair across the forehead, much like Indira Gandhi —the ‘iron lady of Indian politics’. Like all things that feel different when it happens to you, I was aghast when I found ‘my lock of white hair’ in the middle of my head! There was no feeling of joy! All I felt was horror. Surely that was a sign of me turning old, wasn’t it?

From there started this obsession with turning old. I suddenly felt and acted like my world just ended. I mentally started ticking off all the things I should have done by the time I turned 30 and realized that other than actually turning 30 there was nothing else I could tick off. Top on the list was the fact that I was still single, but I was am not so worried about it. I was doing all I was supposed to do to meet some eligible bachelors but if I continued to elude the marriage bond, it was not for a lack of trying.  As far as my career goes, I am not too ambitious about where I land; as long as I am learning something I am fine. So, maybe I could just tick career on my list.

I realised that over time, I had become very conscious of the presence of younger people. I constantly compared them to myself at their age. At times, I was elated at being miles ahead of them and sometimes envious of the choices they had before them. I found myself territorial at work, colouring their ideas and opinions with my prejudices and obsessing over the fact that I would never be as fit as them. Oh how I cursed myself for not listening to mom about so many things plus the bags of chips I ate through on a regular basis!

Low-fat, trans fat, calories, cholesterol, health check-ups, diabetes —suddenly these words were popping up everywhere. Once I turned 30 health articles on ‘food habits for the 30s’ seemed to catch my eye more than I wanted to. Subconsciously, I started making healthier choices, not that I am too unhappy about it considering that I haven’t entirely given up on my sweets as yet. 

My obsession with age had to stop. Imagine running on the treadmill and all I could see was age group 30! As the days passed into months, I felt that nothing had actually changed for me. It was really all in the head. Age is just a number. I still have all the fun I did before, I pretty much eat the same kind of food though of the leaner variety and my hair stopped graying at that first lock of hair.

I wonder if I will face another crisis at turning 40? Or would I be deadpan like Maya Angelou, when she said, “When I passed forty I dropped pretense, cause men like women who got some sense."

A day at the races

It’s a treat for all the senses, except of course the ears. My first time at the F1 races was heady, fun and absolutely thrilling. This year, I made it a point to take the free ticket, even if it was not for race day. After all, a qualifying session is good enough, especially when it’s free!

Most of the people watching the sessions were tourists, real aficionados of the game. They came in all ready with flags, binoculars and the all essential ear plugs. You really need the ear plugs; my ears are still reeling from the sound. I thought the sound of gunfire in a shooting range was deafening; this gave all new meaning to deafening. When the first roar of the cars was heard, I was not at all ready for the decibel that greeted my poor ears! Then I got used to it. I was also ready to only ‘see’ cars as a blur and endure whiplash as a result of all the neck strain but I could see the cars quite easily. Getting them on camera, well that’s another story, though I did manage to get a shot or two. Every time was aim and miss; by the time my camera clicked it, the car had zoomed away! It was fun to see the cars swerve and whiz past; it was more fun to recognize a few teams. I knew the drivers for some of the teams but in the cars I didn’t know who was where. The commentary was on but it was drowned by the sounds of the roaring cars. I was doubly excited to see the Force India, something about the saffron, green and white got me thrilled.

My seat on the stands game me an excellent view of the circuit, marina and all. I was disappointed that Webber didn’t take pole but glad his teammate did. Unlike the gentleman near me who showed his disgust at Vettel taking pole by repeatedly hitting the railing and swearing!

Just hold on

How does a day that starts so well, where you are all perky and happy and smiling suddenly become a day from hell. Everything around you starts to slip bit by bit and before you know it everything you’ve built collapses around you. And you are trapped somewhere in between looking haplessly on at the rubble that is left, heaps and bones of a world you thought was yours. A dream being shattered is nothing compared to this feeling. You try hard to stay in control, the reins are in your hand, you can feel them but someone else is wielding the power.  You have no control in the events, only in how you are going to let it affect you. Time is always racing ahead, one moment you are in top form and the next, everything you touch crumbles.

You forget the rules that kept you safe all the time and let your guard down and the marauders come charging you. Before you know you are down. Caught, chastised, hurt and wounded; then begins the self-flagellation.  Time is a great leveler; there is a climb, a peak and a fall. Everything goes through this process; it’s the law of nature. Everything that is born will die only to come back again. You understand the idea, you really do, but why does it seem like you’ve missed the lesson on this. Somehow you seem to remain unevolved, emotionally stunted somewhere along the first hurt, disbelieving and distrustful.

Everyone needs that one person to call their own, that one person who does not judge, who understands. Who does not question but supports, who stands by you through ugly, fat, humiliating times, who reaches a hand out no matter even if it festering. You need to find that person somehow, get to them and hold on for dear life, till this awful, awful, day from hell ends. Till then you have to grin and bear it, life never claimed to be fair. As someone wisely put it, some days you are the pigeon and some days you are the statue.

Standing still or moving on?

What do you do when others have plans and you don’t? When their lives seem to be moving on to newer, exciting things and yours seems to be standing still. Do you feel jealous or share in their joy. Do you pretend to be happy while inwardly cringing. At what? At being alone, left out, at stagnating, at becoming a non-entity? You begin introspecting, probing and prodding at every decision that brought you to this very moment. Are you becoming one of those people that time leaves behind? Are you saying goodbyes to people or are people saying goodbye to you. Are you turning into those people you used to pity when you thought your life was fun?

Whilst these thoughts ring through your head and make you feel more morose and sad than you already are, a thought hits you. “Hang on,” it says, “If people are moving on, so are you”. You. Moving on? How? Simply put, when something is removed from an equation there is a shift in balance. It equals out, lessens out or increases.  In all three scenarios you realise that your life was not all that bad or perfect then, neither is it now but you now have the choice to either keep it the way it was or work to make it better.  The players may change but the elements remain the same.

You find yourself reaching out to people who until then were on the fringes of your social circle. You suddenly have more time to discover other things. In the familiarity of the mundane, you slipped into habits that you are now forced to abandon or change to suit the new. So how is change bad? As they say, “when life hands you a lemon, what do you do with it?”