6 days before 25.

It’s only when I took a second look at the Pond’s Age Miracle ad on T.V. that I realized and accepted the fact that 25 is not just a whole number. Honestly, so long I’ve never felt it was a big deal to turn 25. Being in advertising, most of the briefs are written for the 18-25 olds. That hit hard. I do not belong the ‘cool’ generation anymore.  You can hide as many of your friends’ marriage posts on facebook, but you can’t escape the fact that you’re just about to enter the danger zone too. The weekend topics start with ‘when do you plan to settle down in life?’ and end with ‘so, when do you plan to settle down in life?’ The marriage proposals happen to be that of Shyamala aunty’s neighbour’s sister in laws’ younger son’s son.  For god’s sake, I cannot think of settling down in life in the next 144 hours. Friends of your age face similar problems too and that’s the topic of discussion over a cup of coffee these days, which seem to have moved from ‘ex boyfriends’ or ‘whom they spent the night with’.  Life Insurance Policies, real estate investments, easy car loan options seem to interest you.  Birthday parties are about quietly enjoying a few drinks and not dancing to head banging music in a disc. Oh yes, you might have graduated to scotch from vodka (mostly in case of men) by now too. If you’re single at 25, it sucks even more. It’s almost like a board that reads ‘DEAD END’. In my case, I’ve to imagine getting married to a healthy, dark, lungi clad, rice gobbler.  You’re supposed to call the plumber or electrician now, while your dad appears engrossed in the newspaper and gives a wry smile as if to say, “It’s your turn now”.  And if you don’t do it, there will be a voice behind you which would say ‘You’re 25. Till when are we supposed to manage things for you?’ You’re supposed to talk about international politics like a student asked to give extempore speech on a podium in front of a huge audience. Move on from T-shirts and torn jeans to something more 25ish. Social functions are a must to attend. Everyone must know how you look, how much you’ve grown, how much you earn, do you even earn, where you work and the priceless look of ‘you’re in advertising because you couldn’t do anything better’ and why their sons or daughters are engineers or doctors drawing this much salary. So, here I am, standing on the edge of 24,scared to bid goodbye to my naïve –ness, my fantasies, my language, my ‘irresponsibilities’ and put an end to the ‘first cut’ of life.