27: A serious young age

In these contemporary times, 27 happens to be a weird age. Mind you, this perspective is strictly of an urban, independent girl. Don’t come at me. 

Anyway, a week short of turning 27, my heart has been a bit heavy lately. And it has gotten me thinking a bit more seriously about the life that lies ahead. Working and being independent gives me utter joy. Living the life that I always dreamt of, being responsible, making mistakes and learning from them, living life on my own terms with principles, dignity, and integrity. Happy to admit that I am opinionated, love having tattoos, colour my hair twice a year and love living life out loud. 

What scares me about turning 27 isn’t the age factor. It’s the discussions of marriage. When is she going to settle down? When is she going to have kids? Because having kids before 30 is better, right? Biology says so. However, a crucial question is being overlooked here. The question is: do I? 

Because no matter how much I try to control this thought, it still creeps up my spine every now and then. That the beautiful, independent life that I have built for myself will be threatened. Three years down the line, I’ll be completing three decades on this planet. Then the discussions of kids will begin and one missed period later, my life would no longer belong entirely to me for a long time. It’s scary. How does one make that kind of commitment? We only got one life, right? 

Do I want to get married in the next two years? Do I want to have kids in the next five years? Sure, maybe someday. But is it worth the fear I’m having? And perhaps that fear doesn’t come from commitment alone. It comes from the world we’re expected to build that commitment in.

With a variety of heinous crimes going on in our country, it’s safe to say no one is safe. With women, men, senior citizens, kids, babies, dogs, monitor lizards and even cows being targeted by the monsters who look very much like humans, my trust in humanity has become wafer-thin. 

The Twisha Sharma case is proof that just because a family is educated, doesn’t mean they might have even a shred of humanity. 

It’s quite simple really. 

I love myself enough to want to be alive and I love life enough to want to live it. It’s a thought purely based on what has been going on lately and the blatant overlooking of it all. 

One might say I’m angry. I think I am not angry enough. 

Every nerve in my body is screaming so loudly that it’s deafening. So here’s what my almost 27-year old self has decided. Be fiercely independent. Don’t rely on anyone. Financially or emotionally. Fulfill my dreams. When I do get married at the time when I see fit, a man would have nothing more to offer to me but love and respect. 

Till then live vivaciously, boldly, and be unapologetically myself.