Of ageing and maturing

How do I look? 

This is one question that I’ve never bothered to check for the first 2 decades of my life, for I was afraid of the answer. I’ve often been the fattest boy in any group and morbidly obese all throughout my school days. There have been times when I would wait for evening time, which will through elongated shadow, wondering when I would ever resemble those shape. Till the time I left Chennai for a job in a different city, I had never taken any step to exercise or take up fitness activities. With nothing else to do and with a decent gym company provided in the same campus, almost every evening of mine was spent there, and I finally reached the other end of the spectrum when I gym instructor one day, asked me to reduce cardio as I was too lean already! It was music for my ears but despite every wall of the gym being covered in mirrors I never liked what I saw in the reflection for it always showed me how others saw me rather than who I was. Unless it was the magic mirror from Snow White nothing else could’ve achieved the stated objective. Still such thoughts lingered for a long while. Soon I shifted back to Chennai and when we had a mini college reunion during our friend’s wedding, some of the people couldn’t recognize me for the bulk I had lost. It gave a sense of satisfaction like nothing else for they had put on weight!! It may be the nastiest of trivial emotion but felt good for the first time that I am looking normal.

 I had never worn any ready-made pants or trousers till my second company in my career. I bought my first pair of jeans when I was around 25 for the simple reason that I was ashamed the store may not have my size!! Cut back to last decade, I discontinued gymming due to several reasons and started bulking up again. During my school days I never realized how bulky I was even when fellow kids used to tease around. Same thing recurred when my trousers became tighter, and people started commenting how ill fitting where my dress. It took a while to outgrow those comments and be comfortable as who I am and how I looked. Cut to few years back, we had a mini gathering again as one of our college mates had come from abroad. This time it was my turn to get shocked/surprised for several of my college mates had lost hair and were starting to bald. My hair started greying from my plus 2 and my own relatives used to tease around that by the time I got married I had to fully color my hair!! Another inadvertent yet funny incident happened during my stint in my first company. I was asked to take a presentation on a tool I was taught to support to a group of people who had joined the company for a different project as freshers. Being a fresher myself and addressing such a big crowd for the first ever time I was bit nervous. But when I entered the conference room those people suddenly grew quiet. Me and my colleague ran through the presentation. She had lot of friends and college mates in that crowd, and they were making fun when she took the session while mine went quiet smooth. Later only I got to know that, looking at my dress and the tortoise shell frame glasses, they had thought I was some senior guy. This time it did work in my favor as it helped me to complete the session in peace. I was a nervous wreck looking at how they were teasing my colleague and was super scared of how mine would’ve been received. Looking at my college friends who were commenting about their grey hairs and stuff it took me back to that incident and again made me realize how people my age is currently looking like. It made me realize one thing. 

How I see myself or visualizing myself had never ever matched with how I was looking physically. It may never match as well. But ageing has its own way of dealing with looks, which will show you up despite your best efforts. Unless you are a movie star whose face value depends on their face, it is impossible to fight against the ravages of time. As much as looking healthy, one also needs a healthier outlook as well on things that are trivial but like a small pebble on a F1 track, can cause major accident if not dealt with properly. All these realizations were running in mind while I was out on an errand, suddenly I heard someone calling me “uncle”. Looking back, I saw it was an age-old lady, who must’ve been in her late fifties at the least, was calling me uncle. (See how quickly I framed her profile just by her looks. Thirunthavay illa!!!) I walked away as if I didn’t hear her call and made a note to color my hair purple!!