All Grown-Up

All Grown-Up
5th October 2006

It isn't a birthday that makes you feel old.

It's the sight of friends around you heading for matrimonial bliss that does.

It began last year, when my best friend got married and settled down in Dubai.

It didn't hit me that hard. She'd been living there for a while to be close to her fiancee. And, to be honest, we'd all expected her to be the first from our college group to tie the knot.

Then, the Drunken Painting Poet - really need to find a shorter nickname, any suggestions? - announced her engagement to Underwater Man. It was a surprise to see it happen so soon, but not a surprise that it happened. They're lovely people and madly in love.

Not to be outdone, the Nag returned from a business trip to China. And she and Doc told us they'd be getting engaged later this month.

The competition's really hotting up.

The weekend before the Drunken Painting Poet's engagement was my maasi's wedding. She's close to my age but my mum's cousin. And at the sangeet, all my (mum's) other cousins of my age were figuring who's next. Age-wise, I'm at the bottom of the list.

But that night it really sunk in. At age 25, I'm growing up.

My Nani tells me marriage offers will pour in. My relatives constantly asked when it was my turn.

In a moment of madness, I wondered whether I should follow suit. Then my remaining sanity returned with a vengeance.

As much as I love Slappy, I'd be amiss to make promises to her that I can't keep right now.

And, leaving aside the fact that she'd run away if I popped the question today, I can't even afford her yet.

But as time goes by and my career takes root, I become more aware of my impending responsbilities.

Adulthood doesn't begin when you're 18. It begins when you start feeling like I do now.

P.S. My best friend landed up in town for karva chauth. I was gloating at her about the pains of marriage that she's realising, when she told me that my days were numbered. Et tu, Brute?