EFML: On adulting and exasperation
NB: For all the grammar Nazis out there(I am myself partially one), I am aware that 'adulting' is not an actual word, at least when I write this. But the bandwagon of verbing all nouns is here, and who am I to protest? Also, the word is necessary because it fills a gap--'being an adult' is the closest you can get with today's vocabulary. But adulting is so much more, you know. It carries with it nonchalance and indifference, and quixotically yet a resentment of responsibilities and a longing for the 'good old days', all of which are characteristic of millennials.
Somewhere in the past week, I came home just before it started raining cats and dogs, and thanked my stars for having escaped the wrath of the skies. My friend happened to call just then, and for a while, I was lost in our conversation, vaguely noticing that the electricity went off in the middle, leaving the house plunged in darkness. I happened to hear the torrential downpour of rain, but the sound was close at hand. Weird, I thought. When this persisted for a minute, I wandered around in the darkness, trying to place the source of the sound. To my absolute horror, there was a forceful stream of water dripping down to the floor, from what appeared to be the ceiling near the staircase landing--with no light, I couldn't really see.
I immediately cut the call and went about trying to find what was wrong. I stepped under the miniature waterfall and climbed up the slippery stairs.Turns out the water was coming from underneath the terrace door. Like every other terrace, the one in my house too had strategically placed outlets for the water to flow down into the storm water drain. It was pretty obvious to guess what caused the problem--the terrace hadn't been cleaned in a long time, and these outlets had been blocked by sand/stones/soil and what not. That evening, the rain was torrential, and therefore, it was inevitable that it would flow wherever it could and wherever the gradient took it, which in this case was out the door and into the house.
To cut my long woeful story short, I found a torch,an umbrella and a long stick and headed up to the terrace. I can assure you of one thing--it's extremely difficult to hold an umbrella and a torch while simultaneously trying to unclog a blocked outlet with a stick. The umbrella threatened to upturn, the torch threatened to fall down and the rain poured down on me. In a minute, I was drenched, miserable and shivering. I somehow accomplished the task at hand, and watched in relief as the water receded down the pipes instead of into the house.
I locked the door and carefully walked down the stairs, wanting nothing more than dry clothes and hot coffee. That was when I saw the state the house was in. It was like a deluge. In the ten minutes that it had taken me to stop the water, the entire house had been flooded. No room was spared. The next two hours were spent in trying to get rid of the water--picture endless sweeping and mopping. The power came back on by the time I was done. Every muscle in my body ached, and I felt numb. I was just glad the ordeal was over and that I could go to sleep.
My pessimistic mind conjured up a vision of adulthood that was based upon the metaphor of just this night. Miserable, clueless and tired. Adulting was exactly this. Day after day of mindless monotony that exhausts you a hundred times physically and a million times mentally. Nothing really makes sense. Or was the making sense part an illusion you're meant to outgrow? You have a feeling that you don't really know what you're supposed to do, so you just do whatever comes to your mind. The problems never end, do they? Problems much bigger than you are, problems that no amount of smart thinking and creativity can solve, problems that the so-called adults attribute to "life" itself. They wear you out gradually, and at some point you're not even sure you care.
I was reminded of times when I had much less responsibility, when the consequences of my actions were far narrower, when I could afford to be nonchalant. But those were luxuries of the past, and I am now a slave of free will.
P.S: If you thought abrupt ending, I hear you and echo you with every brain cell I possess! Started this last Friday and it's no closer to being done today than five days ago, which ironically is another point that supports my 'adulting and exasperation' theory. :D I figured I might as well end it at slave of free will :P
Somewhere in the past week, I came home just before it started raining cats and dogs, and thanked my stars for having escaped the wrath of the skies. My friend happened to call just then, and for a while, I was lost in our conversation, vaguely noticing that the electricity went off in the middle, leaving the house plunged in darkness. I happened to hear the torrential downpour of rain, but the sound was close at hand. Weird, I thought. When this persisted for a minute, I wandered around in the darkness, trying to place the source of the sound. To my absolute horror, there was a forceful stream of water dripping down to the floor, from what appeared to be the ceiling near the staircase landing--with no light, I couldn't really see.
I immediately cut the call and went about trying to find what was wrong. I stepped under the miniature waterfall and climbed up the slippery stairs.Turns out the water was coming from underneath the terrace door. Like every other terrace, the one in my house too had strategically placed outlets for the water to flow down into the storm water drain. It was pretty obvious to guess what caused the problem--the terrace hadn't been cleaned in a long time, and these outlets had been blocked by sand/stones/soil and what not. That evening, the rain was torrential, and therefore, it was inevitable that it would flow wherever it could and wherever the gradient took it, which in this case was out the door and into the house.
To cut my long woeful story short, I found a torch,an umbrella and a long stick and headed up to the terrace. I can assure you of one thing--it's extremely difficult to hold an umbrella and a torch while simultaneously trying to unclog a blocked outlet with a stick. The umbrella threatened to upturn, the torch threatened to fall down and the rain poured down on me. In a minute, I was drenched, miserable and shivering. I somehow accomplished the task at hand, and watched in relief as the water receded down the pipes instead of into the house.
I locked the door and carefully walked down the stairs, wanting nothing more than dry clothes and hot coffee. That was when I saw the state the house was in. It was like a deluge. In the ten minutes that it had taken me to stop the water, the entire house had been flooded. No room was spared. The next two hours were spent in trying to get rid of the water--picture endless sweeping and mopping. The power came back on by the time I was done. Every muscle in my body ached, and I felt numb. I was just glad the ordeal was over and that I could go to sleep.
My pessimistic mind conjured up a vision of adulthood that was based upon the metaphor of just this night. Miserable, clueless and tired. Adulting was exactly this. Day after day of mindless monotony that exhausts you a hundred times physically and a million times mentally. Nothing really makes sense. Or was the making sense part an illusion you're meant to outgrow? You have a feeling that you don't really know what you're supposed to do, so you just do whatever comes to your mind. The problems never end, do they? Problems much bigger than you are, problems that no amount of smart thinking and creativity can solve, problems that the so-called adults attribute to "life" itself. They wear you out gradually, and at some point you're not even sure you care.
I was reminded of times when I had much less responsibility, when the consequences of my actions were far narrower, when I could afford to be nonchalant. But those were luxuries of the past, and I am now a slave of free will.
P.S: If you thought abrupt ending, I hear you and echo you with every brain cell I possess! Started this last Friday and it's no closer to being done today than five days ago, which ironically is another point that supports my 'adulting and exasperation' theory. :D I figured I might as well end it at slave of free will :P
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