On Turning 30

On turning 30

January 16, 2007. A day I was petrified most to face, and to be a little honest, I had least idea why, had finally arrived. It was a restless day. I turned thirty and there are many more than thirty reasons people reminded me of, that were left pending on my milestone list. Friends, in their own logical capacity, tried making me feel better that it actually is 29, as that’s how many years have been completed on the planet. But when you pick up between the truth and make-you-feel-better part of the truth, I chose the tough one.

I still am clueless. I could sense I was already in the race for quite sometimes, so how a number can have the ability to manipulate human emotions and intelligence to this extent?

Churchill once said “Any man who is under 30, and it not liberal, has no hearts, and any man who is over 30, and is not conservative, has no brains”. Straining the political disguise of it, the guidelines are already set. The privilege of making excuse of every single time the wit overrules the brain, has been taken of. Each time my failed attempt on being humorous, will be ridiculed and will be scrutinized against the expected maturity set against the number.

Last year, a healthcare magazine at the hair saloon had given my friend, the fright of her life. With the alarming mobility issues of the life-making-contribution-of-Adam (They blame the corporate world!!) along with the work-life-balance concerns (Again, it’s the corporate world to be blamed, I pity the companies that paid to be blamed as the abolisher of the human kind), doctors do not leave a single opportunity to push people into the race. Apparently, my friend, balanced the lost hair at the saloon with some newly implanted dreaded ideas. Few months later, she called, and was really excited announcing her contribution to the human kind.

The story does not stop here, it has a special edge that reaches out to the comfort zone of the single friends of the family-on-the-way friends, who by now, take it up as a social responsibility to make their single friends hear the bell, something that the single ones choose to, or for certain unavoidable constraints, not hear.

Children, in a conscious mind, were never on my menu. I always preferred to assume it as a thing that comes along when life goes ahead, one of those cannot-be-planned agenda on the task list. My honesty, in stating this fact, in a casual 3AM dinner at Denny’s, added an extra chilliness to the air.

Things, as if were already planned to make me feel like crap on this day, were flashing in my mind. I always had considered myself as a smart, intelligent and witty girl (If I still call myself that, they forgot to defined a guideline for this), and I had no clue, what, possibly could be the thing that has such a power on my that my conscious disagreeably fails?

Decided to clear off my mind, went on a long walk, came back home, made myself a sundae loaded with chocolate sauce, and sat myself in front of the TV. It was Malgudi days on the box and Swami was on his adventure with Mani and Rajam.

For the rest of the day, I forgot how silly and stupid a number can actually make you for an entire day.