A week before I was due to turn a year older, I felt a slight churn in the pit of my stomach. More so than earlier, because this year, I was due to hit the quarter century milestone.
Age is just a number. And 25 is certainly a hype created by people around us,” said a friend. While a cousin said, “25 will be the most memorable year of your life. Make the best use of it!”
I listened and tried, like a child, to blindly soak in an ideal world where turning 25 was synonymous to pomp and galore. But that hardly happened. Because, on the night of my birthday, I downed two Bailey’s and put on the party pooper hat.
What’s the purpose of what I am doing right now? Okay, what DO I want to do right now? What gives me happiness? More so, being an Indian and being single, there was the threat of attending family occasions and being interrogated about why I was being so pricey about “choosing a boy”, much like in a flea market.
An entire week went past, with not a hint of sunshine. And then, a week later, I found a note on my desk, written by my mom, which, if not gave me the answers to my questions, at least gave me the strength to face the curve balls that life was preparing to throw at me.
And then, I remembered a post I had read a year ago about ‘25 things I want myself to know at 25.’ One of them was; Enjoy getting to know your parents, as their adult child and realize that they still have a lot to teach you.