I met up with some friends today, who I knew a long time back. Things have gotten all “sober” from the times gone by. I like my friends, they are a good set of people. They don’t worry about complexes, egos.. petty things like that.. anymore. Most of them are now settled in life, typically. So as the encounter progressed, anecdotes started flying around, giggles and laughter followed. But suddenly, at one moment everyone (read three) looked at me and sighed. I, in most of the social congregations, am the epitome for the phrase.. “Had everything.. lost everything”. I never agreed. I vehemently defended every “odd-ball” action of mine. Everytime. These people are the conventional open minded people who do realize and respect the choices of an individual, but I always find the look of disappointment in their eyes when they look at my “wasted” life. I hate that look, it is the same look my mom sports.
“You were smart.. you could have become a lawyer or a manager” or “You were the prettiest among us.. you could have been on TV or maybe have become a tennis player atleast” someone always quipped. Notice, the tennis bit at the end.. that was a suggestion at the heights of humour, a sober software analyst can reach. Fairly pedestrian, I agree.
My defining feature throughout my adolescence was my appearance. I was not a drop dead gorgeous bimbo, as my braggadocio might have suggested, but was fairly attractive. I always thought it ruined my chances of being acknowledged “intelligent”. I did manage to rake up some high scores in most of the exams, but I was always the cute one, not the brainy one. I hated that. But every one thought I ll become “successful” in life anyway. Heck, I still am young and have a long way ahead, but this is where my history steps in.
For brief period in my life, I was in the state of, well.. disillusionment. Like every other kid in the great city of ours, I too was caught in the classic teenage affliction – DRUGS, SEX and ROCK n ROLL. In years gone by, some one said.. “Talent is no virtue, when desire ceases.” Desire is not defined for a teenager, it is misconstrued.
People make mistakes. Some pay for them instantly, some in installments. But every body pays. You just take the receipts and walk on. The only problem is.. that my receipt is stuck to my butt! And I want it off.
So at the turn of the day, as the clock reads 0021 hrs, I declare.. NO, MY LIFE WAS NOT DONE IN! IT WAS NOT WASTED!! Again.