So, I recently was having a conversation with my friends when we caught up on the occasion of one of my friends turning 38. When you are in your late 30s, there is a peculiar disease one is suffering from with you know, the usual symptoms: questioning life choices, feeling like time is running out, and wondering if we should just quit our jobs and become bartender or magicians or even better goat farmers.
In the late 30s, having a mid-life crisis is as essential as posting the wedding/honeymoon/babymoon/food/animal-parent/human-parent pictures on Instagram. If you ain't experiencing one, then be sure you are either boycotted by the society or worse, may be you are living under a rock.
It's like one day you wake up and realize that you're supposed to have it all figured out just because you hit a certain age. But let's be real, just because you are at that age, doesn't mean you suddenly have all the answers. I still have no idea how to fold a fitted sheet or how to properly use chopsticks or sometimes what to do with my weekends.
But the biggest challenge for me has been trying to keep up with the latest trends. I mean, it used to be that all I had to worry about was wearing the latest kurta or getting my hair cut at the right salon. But now, I have to keep up with the latest technology, the latest diet trends, and then there's social media. Don't even get me started on the pressure to be an influencer on social media. It's like if you don't have thousands of followers and hundreds of likes on your Instagram account, you're a nobody. And don't even think about having your meal without posting a picture of your food and if you decide to post one ensure it's artisanal, organic, and gluten-free. It's like being in a never-ending race to stay updated and relevant.
And don't even get me started on the expectations (judgment) on your physicality in the era of slim-fit shirts and jeans. Back in the days of the kings and royals, these people fitting into such insane fits would be apportioned with extra ration, just to look nourished. But now, if the length of your jeans crosses your ankle, you risk being called an 'uncle'.
Not to forget, waking up with new aches and pains every day, and to stretch for an hour just to be able to tie your own shoes. It's like my body is saying, "Hey buddy, welcome to your golden years. Enjoy your new back pain and gray hairs."
But you know what? I'm okay with all of this. I'm okay with being a little lost and not having everything figured out. Because that's what life is all about, right? It's about figuring things out as you go along. So, to all others in the late 30s out there going through a mid-life crisis, don't worry, you're not alone. We'll figure it out together, one samosa at a time. And don't forget to stretch.
Also, do you secretly wish you were a cat?