Just not ready yet........

I have always loved crosswords.The sheer human pleasure in finding the right answer which had eluded behind the squares for so long, is worth all the speculation.Specially the easy ones in newspaper supplements where you are sure that the person who has framed the questions is a silly damn fool.I love them even now..except for a small tag in some much tucked-away corner that states along with send in your entries.."Only for people below 20."Such harsh reminders of the grey age.

The old age was a horizon faaaar ahead of me until one sunny day a year ago when my sun flocked behind the grey clouds."The discovery of grey hairs" came as a bolt from the heavens and charred my young heart with flecks of grey! I tried to rub my eyes believing it to be a parallax error due to the combined efforts of a distressed pupil,retina,diaphragm and other less forgettable eye components.The result was a bloody red eye and not the clearing of vision and the vanishing grey .As i sank into the chair bewildered and dismal like mrs.varma of the old Godrej hair dye ad,i realised that the bug had bitten me as well.The sinister ,contagious,much-loathed old age bug.

In my young chirpy world, hair dyes were only for mothers and fathers. Unlike mrs.varma i don't have a consultant who can advice me to use the Godrej hair dye,but as i see the blossoming number of dyes in the market i see a day not too far ahead when i'll walk up to a store counter and miserable hearted ask for a hair dye.Also in relevance here is the horrendous expression i bear on my face when i realise the days of chechi/akka/didi is over and all the little nephews and nieces and stranger kids call u "AUNTY AUNTY".Happy days are exactly not here again. Each day i look at myself in the mirror to see if more silver strands appear in the black canvas.My close friends would definitely hold the narcissist tag against this but i cant help staring at the mirror looking for new wrinkles and crow lines under my eyes.To see if the turnstiles are opening .The turnstiles to the garden of brambles and nettles.The gate to wisdom and grey hair.

Each new year comes a rather late Santa in this rather sloppy mind of mine,with his sack full of..not gifts..but abominable resolutions.Each year they come and go, like unheeded advices.A chance to impress the teachers on the first day after Xmas hols.They range from age to age with the resolutions diminishing in number as i grew older.The schoolgirl days saw typically school girl stuff like "will not daydream in class,will top in class(if the first one works),will get over the then-crush(secretly praying to all pagan gods to make him fall in love with me.),and such cotton candy lacking in-wisdom tricks of the mind.As years tumbled down the lopsided drive of life, the number of resolutions went down from many to a prodigious yawn when somebody spoke of them.
For the past many days turning into weeks turning into months...there has been only one hard to crack one.To stop hogging like a pig.A pig will not be the ultimate.To stop eating like a pig number of pigs.(really forgot what the collective noun of pigs are...).The problem being that though the resolution sound rather rough n tough it resides in the sluice gates of my heart and melts like butter at the sight or smell of any food.From a young age i was fortunate enough to be on the thinner side of life.People around and i have collectively wondered why the ratio of flesh is inversely proportional to my diet.Those green eyed jealousies have ultimately paid off as i realise that flesh is slowly piling up and in plain terms" yes i am getting fatter."Yeww..."i just said it."
A reminder that metabolism is slow and again in plain terms-the growing old scenario.

I realise that the transition is happening.The transition from being a scot-free girl into a seemingly mature woman.Alas..the truth only rests in the eyes of the people who behold me.They see me as a girl in her mid twenties.The older generation wondering what deformities and dark secrets i possess,to remain unmarried .According to my grandmothers and grand aunts i am depreciating in value in the only economy the recession hasn't hit so far-"the wedding market." I do no care a hoot for all these conundrums.I am ecstatic that i have or i had such lovely times ,living my life to the fullest according to mine own devices. The main problem lies in the people around, who expect me to live and behave in a certain way favourable for them.As per their set standards. They see me through the semi darkness of my age..wondering how ill turn up.Albeit all that im still basking in the rays of a youthful sun.Apart from a sudden spurt of concern and curiosity as i scan the mirror for wrinkles ,flab and grey hair ,i dont care.I still very much am the girl who can climb trees and eat raw mangoes.I still am the girl who can play hide n seek with my friends.I still am the girl who can play pranks and giggle away to glory at silly jokes.I still am the girl who can sleep, hugging my mother.I still am the girl who can weep at the drop of a hat.


You can all just go away into oblivion-grey hairs,wrinkles and tyres.....I am just not ready for you yet!!!