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confessions of an immature


What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you behave like Mature ones? Why can’t you act according to your age? These are some of the very aberrant questions that arise in my mind abashedly whenever I encounter different situations. Why do people, known or unknown expect us to lead a very obvious path being laid by our forefathers? Does maturity comes from the way we handle problems or from whether we reach finiteness, a stage which makes us adapt to find focus in obscurity? Almost all of my friends in a span of 2-3 years have Changed dramatically. I guess I should call being 25 as the age of mental shift when our tone turns acerbic. The friends have become such dull and boring that sometimes it feels all alone in a party, I acquiesce though.

There are now other things on the bucket list like money, marriage, children, aggrandizing and all sorts of vagaries that never used to bother us. I mean it’s a matter of 2 years and everything’s changed. What happened to all booze talk and banters, Social dramas, adventitious hangovers, (great in sack) boasts? I feel lost and addled. Am I the only one who hasn’t changed or not acting according to his age? Seems going up the acclivity. In my personal life I have had great relationships and I guess I have lived them all passionately and happily. Of course sourness comes from within but that is part of the whole system and how it works. Anyways I won’t say that I always do things correctly as by social code of conduct, but I enjoy being myself almost every single time. I don’t fake smiles or gestures. Is that a crime? I now think that we are portrayed as puppets and often being played by a very certain society which acts like ventriloquist. We see each other with apathy and know we are being played but still play the game and whoever maintains this misbalanced code is termed as a mature, astute and successful guy.

It is not very far in space when I look back at that time of naive, the time when we were bunch of punks. My friend and I are sitting in a cyber cafe right on the day of our High school results, carrying roll no’s of almost everyone of us in our hands. In few moments, we are jumping. We have happily passed that phase. We could see no future, but we did see the light. We were free like birds, had all the way to stretch our wings and fly off. But now why after so many years and so many qualifications and accolades, we are caged?  These false inhibitions drive me crazy, of living in this city of masks. When you expect people to express, all they do is a wooden face and then there are times when they would laugh their guts out like Joker (of Batman) and all you could recognize is a trigger or a switch below their feet which goes on and off and then world blinks back at them unequivocally. I feel nothing more than a tired piece of meat at such occasions.


This post first appeared on French Salad, please read the originial post: here

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confessions of an immature

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