Blissful innocence succumbs to harsh realities of life. Quarter-life crisis ensues: Life reads like the polar opposite of all wishful imagination. Then again, like Douglas Adams, the English humorist, says – “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”[break]
You did what we’re all supposed to do. You went to college. Got a degree. And found a job. This was it. You were getting closer to that ‘dream.’ Hardly! Entering the ‘real’ world straight out of protected havens of home and college is confusing. You enjoy the newfound freedom. It’s a comfortable place to be – You’re paying your bills, hanging out with friends, traveling a little more, almost living the good life. But you aren’t content. A feeling constantly gnaws at you. The steadiness gets uneasy; you aspire for more.
You take a risk and quit your job in search of your ‘passion.’ You have an identity crisis because you’re molded to believe who you are stems from what you do. You aren’t sure if you want to be a writer, start your own company, join politics, or just go back to school, get empowered with a higher degree and exercise more bargaining power as a result. You’re overwhelmed by all the possibilities you can dabble in, and petrified, you’ll make the worst choice. You want to stand out, not fit in. But how? Yes, the reality is that right now, you neither have enough experience to prove your mettle nor can you be certain that your aspirations will take you places. It’s this fear of failure that winds you up, unsettles you as much as the fear of the unknown.
Illustration: Sworup Nhasiju
Time seems to swish by like a lightning bolt at this age. Only yesterday you were celebrating your twenty first; you blink and you’re twenty five. It’s that time when, while filling out surveys, you want to cheat and check the 20-24 age box because 25-30 seems older than how you feel. In a restaurant, you aren’t sure whether to address the waiter as ‘dai’ or ‘bhai.’ Suddenly from a girl, you’re addressed as a woman. You don’t understand when and how that transition happened!
As a person, you become opinionated to the point of sometimes being belligerent. Your ideologies change – what you swore by earlier holds true no more; you flip to the other extreme. You question every belief, taking nothing as an axiom. You make impulsive decisions because you want to have interesting stories to tell your children. Yes, you think about children, not your own but your siblings’ or friends’. You’re going to be the coolest aunt they’ll know.
How can you think about children of your own? Your relationships end up reading like ‘complicated.’ There’s a constant need, which in due course becomes your favorite pastime, to analyze and dissect these relationships. You feel empowered by the findings only until that moment when you give to your whims again. You’re still not sure if marriage is your thing. You have so much to do and see in life that you don’t want to get bogged down. You want to belong. Yet, you want to be free.
Besides, Mr. Right still eludes you and the cliché – All the good men are either taken, gay or fictional characters – holds absolutely true. Your family has started looking for a prospective groom for you since either you’re settled professionally or you aren’t doing much about it anyway! It’s the most logical step, after all. If you act arrogant and choosy right now, you aren’t going to find someone decent when you want to, they say. It’s a scary thought because you don’t want to die a spinster or be lonely. Drama is at the center of your existence.
It’s not all that bad, though. I’m amused, not disheartened, because I’m not in it alone. Whenever I narrate these thoughts, I find quite a few takers. I’ve also heard some people say that at twenty five, they start feeling getting wild is pathetic. It’s time to sober up and get your act together. One of my favorite authors, W. Somerset Maugham, said in his short story ‘Red’ – “We are foolish and sentimental and melodramatic at twenty-five, but if we weren’t perhaps we should be less wise at fifty.” I choose to live by that, instead. My age doesn’t define my actions or the lack thereof.
Honestly, I’ve had my wild moments. I’ve traveled enough to have experiences to speak of, worn my heart on my sleeve, learnt and unlearnt a lot. I’m at a place where I’m comfortable with myself, with who I am. I’ve made mistakes but have no regrets because I strongly believe in Steve Jobs’ resounding words: “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever.”
At twenty five, it’s important to look at life through a kaleidoscope: The small, varied colored fragments come together to weave a beautiful, although, ephemeral and constantly changing tapestry – unraveling, with every pattern, the nuances of your story.
Trust that these stories are worthwhile, even when living them isn’t as easy.
The writer is in her twenties, follows her instincts and makes no apologies for it.
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