I have grown old today
It never goes. In this realization, I grew old. Wiser by a million years. I have woken up these past mornings and reached out for the bile with my tongue, ever so hopeful it left. Yet, finding it there wasn’t disappointing. It was just familiar.
However, as science may or may not prove in the future, I have firmly established a fact, maybe. No one grows in a straight line, up ahead at a uniform speed, from 1 to 5 to 20 to one-day-you-wake-up-and-you-are-too-old. My growth pattern, traced over probably important phases in my life which were irreversibly spent in a world much unrelated to my then-Present have led me to wonderful charts. I trace them all over my books, over important papers, over files, over stationeries and desks left unguarded with smiting pens of all colours. Everyone asks me what they are. I, very frankly tell them it is in a process of discovery. They always grow into wondrous things – dragons, horses, dogs, umberallas, woman’s face within an alligator’s… opening Rorschachian avenues to those who care. In the end though, there is no pattern and there is no line. These are hours spent veering dangerously all over my life span – 5 goes to 50 goes down to 3, goes up to 10, comes further up to 25 and then back to 3…the pain fluctuates too, with no rhyme. I have grown, and in seconds I am tearing away at my childhood, grappling just as poorly with things that scared me then.
I am vertiginous. I am dizzy. I poke my head into strangers' rooms and squint for similar traces.