A warm prickling feeling of steam of coffee around my knees and a cool tingling effect of drizzling rain on the side of my face. I am loving it. First the monsoons in Mumbai try your patience by not coming and then they get on your nerves by not going. Sitting on the edge of my window I can view the whole city somehow I have this strange feeling as if I am looking at the mirror image of my very own life. I don't know why but I am liking the view, its familiar in its own strangeness, its warm in its own coldness.
The city is as blurred as my path ahead in my life, there are some places of this city I don't like and would love to never even cross it just like some shade of my personality which I hate and would never like to accept that it exist in my life. Some roads intermixed in each other looks as confusing as the reason behind everything that happens to me.
Some skyscrapers as high as I feel, half of the times in best of my moods, from where every thing looks wonderful and approaching. Some buildings as ugly and low as I feel, other half of the times, from where every thing else other than your life looks better.
Looking at the strangers walking down the road, all have a task to accomplish, some walking together some all alone, looking at the pictures on my wall, of people I call my family thinking who is'nt a stranger for me?
Looking at the couples down the park walking hand in hand, or sitting on the moist wooden benches finding peace on each others shoulder, looking at my past I search for a trace of that feeling, craving or peace.
Looking at the group of friends on the food stalls, bantering, I wonder how long it had been since I last enjoyed that moment with my friends, I wonder how long it had been since I have not felt like a stranger with the best of my friends? I wonder how well connected I feel with the ones I meet rarely and how distant with the ones I am surrounded with.
I saw a child sitting in the far away corner, and all I could do to stop myself from going down there and tell that child that "I know, I understand".Unlike that child I have a home and a family and friends and all the luxury, but more often then not I had felt scared, and helpless and insecure and lost.
Looking at the Kids playing in the mud, I wonder about the time I wished to leave my mess behind, and walk out to play in the mud not knowing about future and not pondering about the past. None is in my hand and nothing seems promising enough but I still cherish every moment and sulk at the same time.
Looking at the people working in shops and their offices, I wonder do they feel lost in their jobs too,where one day you feel everything is meant to be and perfect in everysense and other days you just stare at the desktop screen wondering "what am I doing" "why the hell am i working here" and the next moment you try your best to perform the best.
The absence of prickling feeling on my knees have gone and the coffee kept beside me is now as cold as the wheather outside, rain has stopped and the wonderful essence of earth, pleasant gushes of breeze bringing the aroma of doused leaves, makes me calm and arises my innocence once again. But now I am too bored to look at the city anymore, probably go catch a movie or hang out with friends, or call the ones I didnt get time to revert all this week or just go and sleep or just take a look at the documents I need to go through before tomorrows meeting. Man !!! was'nt I just loathing all these things few minutes ago?
Well,I guess this is what is called as Quarter Life Crises :) ):
Written By - Ritika Patel
