It’s been almost a week since I have turned 22. Normally, I wouldn’t care, I wouldn’t be even thinking about my birthday. But lately, I have been thinking about a few things, that makes me a bit uneasy. It’s not that I think that 22 is old. I know a lot of people who are 25+ and still “smoking hot”. I understand that 22 years olds are still babies in the grand scheme.
But the thing that worries me about turning 22 is the difference between what I thought I would have accomplished and what I actually have accomplished! I am not one of those ambitious champs and neither do I carry about the world. But it hurts, when you have promised yourself something and you fail to deliver the same on time.
The only achievement that I have made till now is –“Survival”. Yes, if you can even survive in this world that is a huge achievement. By “Survival” I mean surviving with conservation of conscience, dignity, honesty and prestige. These adjectives are all that matter, rest all is ephemeral. I am filled with vanity, just because I could survive.
Coming to my failures, the list goes long. I always wanted to travel a lot-but this uncanny fear while travelling spoils the fun. I wanted to write a lot, but I lack thoughts (not words). I wanted to explore music a bit more than what I have. I wanted to land in the uncharted land of spirituality. I wanted to learn more about different cultures. I wanted to do something for my nation, I feel like an idiot who merely consumes without giving anything to the land.
The list of failures is too long to describe it all. Anyways, I wish myself “Happy Birthday”, although a bit late. And I make another promise to myself-“I will try to remain young forever.”
Age is just a random number for me. And I know how to mould the permutations with numbers!