Well, this time it is not a short story. This is not a blog post to enlighten anyone on any thought provoking incident. For I, am not ready or willing to start any debate or entertain in particular. I am writing this to finish as soon as possible and hit the publish button unlike my other previous posts. This is to be a reflection of my mind after my thirtieth birthday. I just want this to be a part of my memories. This could have been a Facebook status post, had I have not wanted to revive my blog and resuscitate my blogging habit.
By the way, I have just had an awesome birthday. A day memorably spent with my family and friends. My brothers and sisters arranged a surprise party for me. Really enjoyed the day with sumptuous foods and heart warming talks.
I am not aware of average living years of typical Bengali men. Do not want to know either as mathematicians always complicate the whole story with further external conditions and make it a lot harder for me to understand. However, considering my lifestyle, it would be lot harder to continue post sixty years. It could be a curse to live beyond that. Well these are not just musings of a night owl. Trust me; I could only pray that I would be healthy post sixty years on this earth. Having said that, I think I had lived half of my life. Cheers to that.
Finishing a study spell of nineteen years seems to pretty much daunting. Thank God, I started at three. I do not have energy for another one year in any of the schools now. I am proud of having completed the long period in my own way. Out of this, I hate the one and a half years that I spent in a boarding school the most. Please do not ask me why? I could write fifty reasons for my disliking and I would not grant anyone the luxury to disagree with me.
Seven long years in the IT industry!! Not bad. Not bad at all. Many a time, the workplace was hell but the co workers were friends one could not hope for in office. Memories, mostly put in the old boxes with archived label, on the way to oblivion for many, I guess. Not for me though. Not yet.
Learning to play guitar was a disaster. I tried the Hawaiian lap still guitar first, and then the Spanish acoustic one. My best performances would have been in my dreams. Oh wait. Most of my performances were staged in my mind only. I was really happy after the college farewell performance though. 🙂
I took up blogging recently. Last year, I was in UK and really wanted to start something new to utilize my leisure hours. It was really easy to setup a personal blog and write as I wished. Now, I think, I would stick to this habit of blogging and most importantly writing. Every piece I create fills me with immense pleasure. However small or big, these are my creations after all.
My life, in the last thirty years, seems to be boxes of plastic soda bottles stacked on top of one another. All in place to occupy as low space as possible on this whole universe. The top ones are intact and crushing the bottom ones. Just like the memories I have of my recent years making older ones to be very distant and delusional. My existence is of a number, not a name. I am still trying to figure out the cause of my being in this world on the very first place. This urge to look out for my purpose and not being able to find any, is the real problem.
No, I have not had a difficult childhood and have not been through much hardship. I was born into a very loving and caring family that I am still a part of and very much proud of. I have always had a bunch of good friends that I could rely upon. I am very much fortunate and grateful to the Almighty for that.
The inner peace I am searching for is not very easy to achieve. For me, it is still not there after thirty years. Not sure how long it will take to figure out my life and the very reason of my existence. I do not believe that I exist only because my parents’ decision to have a baby.