I don’t see myself in five years.

Not six months have passed since my rant about the ‘Queen of the hills’, and I found myself stuck in a traffic jam on my way to Mussoorie again. But this time, I didn’t really mind it as much. Maybe it was the constant rain.

The first of my friends got married and it brought together old friends who haven’t met each other in years. I quickly discovered the passage of time had brought no change in me. I still despise them. And I am confident that the feeling is mutual. Which is quite alright for me, as it means I don’t have to make too much of an effort to avoid their company.

Like the old times, I spent most of the weekend with the three real friends I have. The ones who haven’t changed. Stuck in a 5-hour traffic jam, we laughed our guts out at stupid jokes you wouldn’t find remotely funny, we offered advice (and warnings) to the one in his first relationship, we drank, we reminisced, we discussed India’s socio-economic problems and argued over scenes in Apocalypse Now. And then they started talking about ‘the future’.

They seemed to have distinct ideas of what they want to do, and how they plan to do it. They talked about courses and universities, investment banks and abbreviations, public policy and think-tanks, while I stared out of the window and hummed the harmonica tune from “Hai apna dil toh awara”.

Maybe they’re not the same, after all. Maybe I’m the only one who still doesn’t want to think about where I’ll be ‘5 years from now’ (and the only one immeasurably annoyed by that expression). The only one without ambitions and goals and roadmaps and strategies. The only one with merely some vague, romantic dreams which will probably remain so.

Did I make the wrong choices? Am I still making them? Did I take life too casually? Will I regret not being ‘driven’ and ‘focused’, watching Yes Minister for the thirteenth time when I could have been planning for my future. Someday, will I be embarrassed to meet my friends?

I thought about this for some time, while we ate and drank and laughed at the wedding. But then I found this on the world wide wonderful web.

Some of your hurts you have cured,

And the sharpest you still have survived,

But what torments of grief you endured,

From evils that never arrived.

– ‘On Anxiety’, by Ralph Waldo Emerson

And I lit another cigarette, and smiled. And told myself I’ll be alright.

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6 Responses to I don’t see myself in five years.

  1. Chandni says:

    Came across your blog randomly and had to discuss this Mussoorie issue! Though your rant about Mussoorie was quite harsh, I guess it is because you saw it from the eyes of a tourist. Spend a little more time (away from the terribly Delhi-ised Mall Road) and visit the places not on the tourist circuit. It will delight you with moss covered paths and blackberry bushes, with banana pancakes and deodar tress. I have similarly (perhaps erroneously) judged and written off the ‘other’ Queen, Nainital on three different occasions! But yes, the beauty of Sangla Valley is quite unmatched : )

    Anyway, enjoyed the simple honest writing (the bit about old friends had me nodding in agreement) so thought I’ll drop a hi : )

  2. Big Eyed Fish says:

    Yes, the only Mussoorie I have seen briefly is the hilly version of Karol Bagh. I’m sure it gets better as you get further from the Chhole-bhature munchers. But then if I had the time to explore, I would have preferred going further up.
    Ah, Sangla…

    Thank you. Glad you liked it.

  3. Bloody Mary says:

    Having a plan doesn’t really ensure anything y’know? I have lived a 100 lives with a 100 plans in my head, none of them have worked out in the real life, no matter how realistic and achievable I thought they were. Maybe I am just a annyoing little bellicose pessimist but hey plans don’t mean much to me.

  4. Anki says:

    ok u r still the fav fish… i shouldn’t read blogs in reverse n leave frantic comments

    but if i may say so… come visit my lil film school monastery (its the best kept secret in the country)….. u will meet everyone who is you

    • Big Eyed Fish says:

      Of course, the rest are all so terribly slimy.

      ‘Meet everyone who is me’?
      Then we’ll all just end up sitting around and smoking in silence, smirking at each other.

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