Growing apart

Sometimes, it is possible to grow out of people.

The sounds of my past blew by today. And for a minute, I froze, wondering if I could and would handle all this or if I would be throw back into the mix again. Then I realised that I could listen without going back… but things kept happening and I found myself – physically – at one of our old hangouts. The place looks pretty much the same. Maybe a little brighter without the clouds of smoke screening everything. The walls are covered with paintings of music legends and posters… everything from Hendrix to David Bowie. The music is always a little too loud but excellent classics. The beer can be a little flat and you aren’t quite sure if you’ll always get what you order for food… but it was our hangout in college.

But as I sat there I realised it is possible to have an affection for something and yet be really detached. I did not feel left out… I had accepted that I would never know certain things and perhaps never be a part of certain jokes. What did surprise me was the distance between me and who used to be one of my closest friends. The seeds of resentment were there… when I accidentally said something and it came out sounding a lot stronger than I intended it to.

Ironically, it was this same friend who said half as a joke that people grow apart. Today, I think that people outgrow each other more than grow apart. Which is why there is still the affection but none of the demands that existed earlier. The expectation to call, the expectations to meet up, the need to catch up and keep each other posted about whatever is happening.

I realised these people, including the best friend, did not really know me. I cannot recall the last time I met up with him or had a heart-to-heart. And the things I have done since then and the things I believe in have changed so  much.

Is it sad? That someone who knew me so well barely touches the surface now? The small things… how I smoke, how I drive… things which people I met two weeks ago are familiar with and these people aren’t. Perhaps it is. But we chose this way… or these ways.

Ironically, the reasons for which we chose this way – or the path he picked – no longer exist. Sort of makes it seem silly now. But there you go… we made those choices and I guess we are sticking to it now.

We do grow out of some people.

Photo of the day:

Growing Up

Finally got done with season 5 of How I Met Your Mother.

Short review – it aint so hot. Perhaps it was the fact that there aren’t that many ted-scapades with ‘is this your mother’ scenes, or Robin and Barney hooking up – spoiling the best footloose kid image i’ve seen for a while, or that Robin and Lily look a little washed out – the entire thing seemed a little tired. The jokes weren’t as sharp, the catchphrases weren’t used enough and in the right places, or the Barney jokes were just yuck… everything that defined the sitcom seemed a little shallow now.

Anyway, there was a bit of a ‘hmm’ moment when Robin says in the last episode that she constantly seems to be juggling career and love life.

It sounds so familiar. A few years ago, I met an Indian-American couple. They met in uni and the girl traveled after they graduated while the guy went back to the US.

“A lot of my money went on phone calls,” she laughed. Now they were married and settled in a completely different continent.

I was 21 and it seemed that these things were possible routinely. That as long as people were willing to work towards it – and why shouldn’t they – this was so very possible. A piece of cake. But now it seems like you either can have the cake or you can eat it, particularly if you want a slightly unconventional lifestyle like I do.

The glow is wearing off those tinted glasses and I’m getting a little cynical. People get more conventional and settled as they grow older. The early 20s ideas about traveling and wanting to see the world or be a musician are put away in memory boxes and formal trousers replace jeans. It is perhaps a part of growing up. But isn’t it sad that we have to give up on the adventure in us to do that. And why should we? Isn’t there a way of making both happen?

Perhaps I am being Marshall and wishing for that one last burger before I have to accept that I am grown up… and that involves being a particular way. And includes making choices that aren’t so nice at all.

I am beginning to believe that I was truly born in the wrong age.

Song of the day: Sandi Thom – What If I’m Right (I wanted to post I wish I was a punkrocker, but apparently I have done that before)