“She used to have a life once!”

Eyes ringed with dark circles, lids drooping, dull ache at the back of my neck..and my weekend’s only just beginning. I’ve been having a ‘social life’ in the past two days that I haven’t had for a long time – courtesy a friend who’s here from the city that really knows how to live – Bangalore. Here in Mumbai we’re great at surviving but living..wot is dat?

Dressing up and going out and music and drinks and conversations and reminiscences and dreams and arguments……god, that used to be my life once. Now the whole ‘me’ exists in my job profile. I don’t have an identity any more but I sure do have a visiting card. Wow.

Whatever happened to ‘Down with the establishment’ and ‘They don’t really care about us’ (yeah, yeah…I used to like MJ just like every second teenager around then). Whenever did those black tee-d, guitaring dudes turn into white-shirt and striped tie yuppies? And the ‘a girl for each weekend’ guys are turning in their Casanova hats and succumbing to holy matrimony…….gaaaaaaad!!!!!! The ‘babes’ are married and mamas, the ‘intellectual’ is planning a media campaign for a new detergent, the dreamer sells credit cards and the artist doodles on her pad while waiting for Mr.Whatsisname to confirm Tuesday’s meeting.

Whooo hoo hoo….who am I to complain? Lady rebel with the dirty jeans and a paintbrush stuck behind her ear now thinks of nothing other than deadlines and meetings. Wearing a violet shirt to work is my idea of daring now…..and Paintbrush is what you use to white out stuff on images before pasting them onto Powerpoint. I’ve gone from wild, reckless ‘high voltage’ bundle of energy to a dignified 25-year old professional…how’s that for value addition, how’s that for growing up, how’s that for a goodbye kiss to Life, the beautiful.

Thus ends the obituary of my youth, of the living, fire-breathing, cocked eyebrow me. My epitaph shall read “She used to have a life once!”

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