March mayhem.

It is now past mid-March.

Now, before we digress into the perennial riddle of the passage of time in life — the “how did we get here already?!” — I need to direct your attention to some other truly important issues.

I think many people would agree with me that one of the best ways to put age into perspective is to have a newborn enter your life. When you have a zero-year-old tiny human in your arms, it is difficult to escape this profound sense of age in life seeping into your mind.

Apart from her regular cries of genuine need (only newborns have the right to be authentically innocently demanding) that now dictate the airwaves in my house, things at home remain quite peaceful. In fact, everything seems even more peaceful than before, because, apparently, being in the presence of a newborn, who has pretty much no perceivable ability to judge us, makes people go into their most well-behaved mode, what with speaking in mild, gentle tones and trying their best to say silly things to stimulate the baby to react with some form of facial expressions that the adults can then interpret on non-baby terms. Such simple-minded folks we are!

But, honestly, compared to all the horror tales I have heard about babies who scream their heads off deep into the middle of the night, my niece is being one of the most wonderful tiny humans I have ever seen.

I know everyone adores babies for their unworldly cuteness that has yet to be tainted by the nasty dirt that permeates the current state of humanity in this terrible world that we live in today. It is important to indulge in marvelling at their pleasantly clean slate of life, because it puts our overwhelmingly disordered phases of life into perspective. Yes, we have been through terrible things, and life in general seems to feel unbearably shitty every other hour of the day, but, hey, look at how far you have come. You used to be this tiny bundle of defenceless being with blotchy skin and no teeth.

Other than the gruelling vice-like grip over my life courtesy of my final-year research project, I am hobbling through this mayhem that is March considerably fine.

I hope you, my friends, are doing considerably fine as well. Relativity is not just one of the grand theories that the genius that is Einstein came up with. It is one of the core concepts that will help you not lose sight of your perspectives as you hop and hobble through life.

Let us continue Marching on.


The accompanying changes of age.

Is this what happens as you get older?

Besides forgetting things more effortlessly, we begin to experience this loss of intensity of the excitement we feel about things that we once felt incredibly worked up over.

Like getting the newly released album of your favourite singer.

It used to be, “Oh my god, I have to listen to the first new song N-O-W!”

Now, it has mellowed to something along the lines of, “Okay, good, a new album. Finally I can update the tunes in my mind, but now I’ve to remember to buy it when I pass by the CD store.”

That’s not to say that you feel as if you can’t be bothered with it. You do care about it, but the excitement of going after it is gone. There is something about it that feels as if the potential of excitement has been weighed down with shrouds of banality about a number of different things whirling and twirling about in your mind, about to-dos, about tasks, goals, priorities, about “what-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life”s.

Somehow, as the need for extreme scrimping and saving to get that thing that you want diminishes, so does the thrill, anticipation and sheer excitement.

Is this why there are so many older young adults who splurge like maniacs to get those things of extreme luxury, something our younger selves couldn’t get close to understanding or comprehending how they could ever justify their massive expenditure? Were they just chasing and seeking that thrill that has so diminished with age? Do they get it back in the end?

I suppose it might be inevitable, the dulling of the edges of excitement. Going through life and its accompanying tedium is probably an immensely effective spiritual sandpaper.

I suppose, in exchange for that, perhaps we would be awarded with glimpses of another tenet of the meaning of life.

Maybe this is how people who were older than we eventually came to gain the pieces of peace in their lives that helped them make sense of the things in their lives that didn’t make sense before, and then they died, knowing the happy wisdom, and in that moment of passing, they go with the knowing that it could be possible that they could have a shot at an afterlife of bliss.

That would be nice.

And also I suppose that could be part of the reason why we find children so freaking entertaining and why children are still so freaking entertained by so many things. They are still very sensitive to the durian of excitement that is life to them. They still get excited about being poked and pierced and just being high on life in general.

Along the way, we begin sanding off thorns, growing thicker skins and investing in better gloves.

And that’s good, because it’s bound to happen anyway, so might as well say it’s a good thing.

It’s a good thing.