If you try to catch too many bolting horses at the same time, all by yourself, the chances are that you'll catch none at the end of the day. So, I have decided to let them run around for a while, tire themselves out and then catch the best five without killing myself in the process. The horses, of course, are my priorities and I am just going to let them run amok and wreak havoc. For now I am tired with trying; Let them tire out too and then we shall see what can be done.
Last week I met someone whom I was meeting only for the second time in almost five years. I asked him if I had changed much from those times and he replied that I had not and that even from that time what constituted me was set so much in stone that there was hardly any space left for change in me. The observation baffled me for I could not really figure out if I should have been happy hearing that or be scared that I have to live with this crap for the rest of my life.
Apparently, it was a week for answering questions, some asked by me, some asked by others. In an extension of the very befuddling "why do men fear commitments, especially the specific one of marriage" question, I was asked if I feared it in the same way too. All this while I thought I too had the same phobia, of being tied to the same person, the same set of needs, but I figured I was not; I am just mortally scared of being married to the wrong person. Of course, this could all be driven by the sudden reintroduction of loneliness into my life after having lived virtually married for almost a year now.
As you grow older, the degree of flexibility within you, covering both emotional and social needs, deteriorate at an even pace. I can't imagine myself going the distance anymore that I would have gone when I was madly in love for the first time at age eighteen. For better or for worse, to borrow the earlier metaphor, a lot of things about yourself become set in stone. You can lie to yourself and tell yourself that it not that way, but the truth does eventually catch up with you and a marriage is not something you want to mess up on that count. It is something you do for life and it has to hold up for that long, at least you should want it to.
One of the things that I have always envied about people around me is the apparently normal lives they live, of having a regular support system of parents and other things around them. In fact, a lot my life has been wasted in either looking for it or trying to replicate it, but in the most warped ways possible. In the past six months I have come to realize that it is just not on. I am the way I am, whether I like it or not. I have grown way too old now to change; I am just too used to being on my own to be able to stand even a token amount of nagging. There just has to be some other way around it.
Other than the earlier said loneliness, it has been a tough time otherwise too. All of a sudden, a bunch of the people, the ones that I hold very dear and close to, are moving out or have already moved out of Delhi. I have not settled in yet into the new job and there is the perpetual problem of mine of being too tough on myself and having really high and unrealistic expectations when it comes to anything. It is so very tempting to drop everything and run away, but at the same time the challenge in the impossibility of the situation is also quite appealing. But does it have to be this difficult to like something too?
In the meantime I have decided that retail therapy is my best friend. I drove across to Gurgaon and picked up this pair of lovely shoes that I have wanted to buy for a long while now. The agenda had included shirts and probably two more pairs of shoes, but decent clothing for men that do not cost a fair amount of your soul and most of your wallet is hard to find in Delhi. That combined with the godawful weather and the formula one race in the evening meant that I back home with just the shoes. Tomorrow, another long week will start; all I can hope for is that the optimism holds, at least for a couple of days.