When I was turning 25, things felt different. I couldn’t place it then, I couldn’t tell what was up, but I knew that life as I knew it, was done. It felt more scary than exciting. As if I was moving from one land to a totally different one that I didn’t know of. Change has always not come easy to me. But this was not the kawaida change. This was a different shade of change.
The analogy that came to mind at that point, was of my entire life walking down the aisle to another me, waiting at the end of it, to take it over from there. I found it weird, that idea. But it was the closest that my insides could get to explain what was happening. It was like I was handing over myself, my dreams, my goals, the challenges I had gone through, my memories and my point of view, to a new me, who would then choose what to do with me, or those things that I had thought made up who I thought I was.
And over 6 months later, I see the significance of that analogy. And how apt it was. I wanted to say, ” I’m still me”. But is that really true? Am I still me? What exactly does that mean? And is there supposed to be a me?
This weekend I visited a place I had always wanted to visit. Not that travel agencies were not taking people there, or that I couldn’t have gone there by myself. I could have. But all along, I knew I wanted two things before seeing that lake. That I would be happy with life when going to see that dry salty lake, and that I would have a DSLR camera. These were not set in stones, just those passing thoughts that come from nowhere but stick.
And as i visited it finally, having fulfilled what the younger me wanted, I don’t really know how to explain what I felt. Was it happiness? The idea of getting your dreams fulfilled? That happiness felt different. Like a vindication of sorts. Or some guidance of sorts.
It reminded me of the things I had wanted. How badly I had wanted them. How my heart used to ache for what it loves.
But that lake, with all it’s weird beauty, reminded me of the future. Of the joy of wanting to live. Of the ectasy of dreams. Of the excitement little things brings me.
It gave me a glimpse into myself. Into the days to come and the days gone by. How utterly meaningless they are all. And how all that matters, is that moment of wanting and getting.
I can’t say for sure what I want from now. I want many things. But I have a glimpse of how I want to be. The essence of me. The fulfillment, that feeling of being on a peak, knowing fully well that you’ll descend and ascend another peak, but all that matters, is that moment.
Sometime back, just a few months ago, when I started getting comfortable with life, the idea of death started scaring me for the first time in life. I’ve always not been afraid of death. For most of my life it felt like a sweet relief that I could give myself in case life got too unlivable. So it was quite strange to want to tell death to wait a little longer, I had things to do, I had happiness to enjoy.
But right now, I don’t really mind. I do want to live. But above that I want to live fully. I want to throw myself off cliffs and ascend mountains with snow. I want to see salty lakes and take boat rides in fresh lakes. I want to swim in the ocean and jump in the desert. I want calm days and exciting days. I want life. In all its possible ways.