Time shall fly...

Right now, I'm young. I can do anything.

I don't believe I can die. I'm not dense enough to believe I can't die, but Death is an interesting concept, no more. I am not conscious of my mortality.

It's thrilling to recognise the period of change for what it is. It's fascinating to see myself changing, growing.
There's such a sense of expectation in my life. The future lies ahead of me, unsullied, unexplored. And the greatest thing about the future is that it's all mine. I can't escape it. It won't leave me. I must move forward, and I am moving.

Everybody is, but I know I'm moving. I get a kick out of knowing that my life is clay in my hands. I can shape it whichever way I want.
I'm happy I'm awake while the wet clay is being fashioned into the brittle object it will become when it has been through the hearth that the world reserves for it.

Even when things are not going the way I've planned, I take pleasure in the fact that really, nothing's lost.
My world is rich in opportunities. I walk so many forked roads, I can't run out of paths to take. I know I'll make it. Even when the odds seem stacked against me, even when I feel low, the feeling never quite leaves me that my life will sort itself out.
Because so far, I have had no real problems.
Because so far, I've had no major disappointments.
Because so far, my self-confidence has not been shattered.
Because so far, I haven't lost.
Because nothing's behind me, and everything lies ahead.

My world is rich in possibilities. I have yet to decide what career to choose. I have yet to decide the direction my life should take. I don't know what I'll be doing ten years from now. I don't know who I'll be with. Or where.

But I get the feeling that ten years later, I'll have a pretty good idea what I'd be doing ten years later. And where. And with whom. And if I'm fortunate, why.

And there will come a time when I'll get up and realize, this is it.
This is the woman I am going to be married to for the rest of my life.
This is about how much I'll earn.
These are the things I'll be able to afford, and these are the ones I won't.
These will be the people I'll call friends from my youth.
This is my family, nuclear and extended.
No more kids to be born.
No more marriages to take place.
No more degrees to be collected.

I'll get up one day and realize I'll never go to Seychelles after all.
I'll never go to Goa with friends.
I'll never motorbike to Ladakh.
I'll never spend a fortnight doing absolutely nothing in the Andamans.
Actually, I might never spend a fortnight doing absolutely nothing. Ever.
I'll never have another summer holiday.
I'll never stop worrying.

There might come a time when I'll know with a pang, this is it.
My life's been decided.
And there'll be nothing I'd be able to do to change it.

And I'll stop wondering, and talking to myself, and writing personal diaries.
And I'll stop wishing for envy from people who marvel at my weirdness.
And I'll get on with the boring business of living.
And before I even know it, I'll become my parents.

And my kids will wonder whether I ever did anything. Maybe I was always like this.
And I'll not remember when I wasn't.

And if I should chance upon my laconic teenager's diary, and if I should give in to the temptation to read it, I'll find my thoughts, my fears, my hopes written in my handwriting in someone else's diary under someone else's name.

And I'll have turned old.