Adulthood: Episode One
January 2016 Roommate: I can sleep sixteen hours straight I’m telling you.
DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this work are non-imaginary. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely intentional and consciously written so as to appear subtle.
Roommate: I can sleep sixteen hours straight I’m telling you.
Roommate: Reliance has the cheapest curtains I’m telling you.
Somewhere between the two unit’s places, a lot changed. I moved to a different city. I started doing a nine to five (don’t worry, it’s a metaphor). I also started paying rent (a little in money, but mostly in tears).
In other words, I began my new journey to adulthood.
You hear a lot about being an adult. You get to make important choices. Take critical decisions. Be a part of the machine at last.
My day starts with debating if breakfast is more important than sleep. I then proceed to look for clean clothes (a lot of sniffing is involved).
Being the adult I am, I occasionally decide to have ice cream for lunch.
I go to work. I spend a lot of my time trying my hardest not to let spiteful walls walk into me or malicious carpets trip me up. My favorite things there include the free caffeine and the people. (You know how sometimes people are nice for the sake of it?) But then every once in a while, I meet someone who took Kidnapped’s Ebenezer Balfour to heart. (I also know a Dumbledore.)
Weekends should be officially rechristened “Everything You Bailed Out On Doing During The Weekdays”. Between laundry, cleaning and calling up frantic relatives, there’s very little Meet Me time left. So I procrastinate on all of the above and watch movies instead.
You live your life in axioms. “Sleep is for the weak” becomes your official mantra. You experience “You only live once” every Saturday night, and “I should not be in charge of my own life” every Sunday morning.
Adulthood involves a lot of shifts in priorities. You avoid any television that requires daily pursuit. You bless Netflix on a daily basis. You no longer type an ‘F’ or a ‘Y’ the moment you open a new Chrome tab.
Also, the first few months, your personal library gets just a little bitter with you.
The cherry on top is going home. You’re not old enough to take part in your family’s decisions but old enough not to receive money from them. You’re also wise enough to get married but foolish enough not to know what is good for you. You realize you’re in no man’s land. And you are caught unawares in this new experience.
And with new experiences come unsolicited advice. Everyone has a different opinion on the best way to masquerade around as adults, and everyone is just as determined to give it to you. So when you see your relatives approach you with the all-knowing smile, you grimace in retaliation to what you know is going to be an hour of your life you’re never getting back.
You are asked work and lifestyle related questions, answers to which almost always confuse your relatives and bring tears to your eyes. Comments on your evolution from a four-foot tall thumb sucker to an independent, earning individual follow suit (This does not apply to me since I’m still in the four foot bracket). But the moment one lets their guard down, showing some humanity, the inevitable, inescapable bomb drops: “Tu toh abhi bhi bacchi hi hai!” (You’re still a kid, after all this time). The sniggers and chuckles only add salt to the wound.
So, in a world full of brand new adults coming to terms with their new roles, I ask for a little patience. I might not hit it right away, I might not even hit it completely, but someday I’m going to shoot an arrow through that target. And it won’t be an accident.