In recent times a lot of people around me have transcended to the next level - or shall I say conformed? They have given in to the social norm, exited from the luxury/misery of being a singleton and ushered themselves into adulthood and parenthood. When I was younger and quite single myself, I would hear a lot of married couple say that you never know what life and responsibility is really about before you get married or settle down. Now quite married and settled myself, I would yet again hear a different group of people with a parenthood status making similar, well-informed claims. I picked up a quote long time ago that said “Having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face. You really need to be certain it's what you want before you commit” and I could not agree more. It is indeed an avenue that I am completely clueless about at this point but wish to venture into with my imagination. Needless to say it would be quite interesting to revisit this piece in a few years time.
A bloody cigarette was all I craved for in that claustrophobic, cramped and absolutely New Age kitchen that my wife and I had so fondly built three years ago. My wife was a firm believer in this concept and would rather be caught dead than miss her “spiritual enhancement” class or what a common layman like myself would refer to as bloody yoga! Okay, I have casually thrown around the word ‘bloody” twice in a row now, not something my wife was likely to approve, especially around children and I could imagine her pursed lips ready to admonish any minute and the preachy tone taking over when she would say “Children do as you do and not as you say”. Sigh! I hung my head as I walked out of the kitchen grabbing my two year old under the armpits and swinging her out of the chair and far away from the mess she had created on the dining table. We needed to rid the table of all evidence before mummy got back home. This was going to be a really long day!
Three years ago, before the birth of our first child, this very same house looked astonishingly different. It was so different that it is quite hard to accept now that it is but the very same dwelling place. I believe the last three years had made a mockery out of the word “dwelling”, but that was a different place, in a different time when our lives used to be an endless string of cocktail parties and lavish dinners. I do not know whether I can ever go back to being that same person again and I think it has a lot to do with my current energy levels. As I started to delve more into this analysis and comparison of my life then and now, I could feel the craving for the cancer stick reach its peak.
With the two year old tucked in bed for the afternoon nap and the three year old watching ‘Toy Story 2” for the umpteenth time, I finally planned my escape. Cigarettes were banned in this house just like a lot of other things like getting drunk and rowdy, staying up after a certain hour of the night, swearing, rude jokes and sometimes depending on the mood of the day, even laughter. Everything was required to be crisp and clean and children-friendly. I had given up smoking for a year in that honeymoon period after we got married but you know what they say about things forbidden – they creep up and become your most prized possession when prohibited. Well at least I was truthful and did not blame the habit on stress or any other imaginary concept.
Life on the wrong side of 30 can be quite interesting I have realised. At 29 or like in my case even at 33, I was rocking the dance floors and still indulging in all nighters but as you keep crawling towards 35(and bear in mind I said ‘crawl’ and not ‘trot’ or even ‘ scamper’. Those are words strictly associated with the 20s) the days seem to get longer and nights shorter. Somehow the pace in life takes a holiday and comes to a standstill close to 40. The irony of it all is that even though life tends to slow down itself your heart grows as restless as ever. It constantly looks behind at the years gone in an energetic flash and forward to the upcoming years beckoning with endless uncertainties and outcomes all depending on the direction you choose at present. Somehow both directions seem a lot simpler and happier than your present crisis since in the younger trough of the 30s you make all the terrible errors, cater to all your whims and from the older trough you beam back at yourself at having made all the right decisions and comfortably ageing. It is this irksome crest in between that is so critical.
Coming out of the theoretical world and back to reality, my wife and I had lived our lives to the fullest before committing to the next phase, or so we thought. We had dated for almost 4 years before being engaged and had spent another year before finally tying the knot. The honeymoon lasted for a whole one year and we did not even let our married status interfere with the time spent with our individual family and friends either. We had felt that we made all the right decisions and were fully equipped. And yet, when you are actually faced with months of sleeplessness and two mortgages and a constant necessity to be right not just for yourself – that would be laughably simple – but for three other people in addition, you realise that nothing in the world can actually prepare you to take on this role. And I swear somehow the word ‘sleep’ keeps cropping up in my mind and takes priority in my mental list of complaints.
As I scrubbed my hands thoroughly first with an antibacterial hand wash and later with a sanitiser, I kept thinking how easily this routine comes to me compared to the first year of parenthood. It was the single most horrible period of my life that I can distinguish and also my most treasured year that I would protect with my life if I have to. I am not too sure how feelings can co-exist in such crude contrast but like all other extremely complicated issues I attempted at addressing previously, this crest is a very rickety spot indeed. Anyway, going back to that first year, I remember my days were as long as 14-15 hours work wise, meaning work that paid you, and another 10 hours voluntary unpaid work wise. I know, it does not add up does it but that is exactly how my days rolled into another and I constantly felt like I was running an hour, if not more, behind in my life till it became a routine and a lifestyle. That drive and passion that I felt in the first year of my newfound role as a father, was unparallel to any other drive I have ever felt so far. I still think it was the residual after-effect of holding and feeling your first born in your arms and that powerful effect can make you do wonders and basically turn you into superman!
The front door of my humble abode crashed open just then and crashed right into my reverie as my gorgeous wife with a glowing tan and perfectly trimmed hair walked in and ran straight into my arms. Her first instinct – was of course to sniff around my clothes and I was guilty as charged! But please do not let the brooding drone of a middle-aged man ruin your beautiful afternoon because even after the six whole paragraphs of concessant whining, my life is still every bit worth living for!
