Turning 40.

Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, when the world sleeps, I will stay wide awake. Yes, I will turn forty and will need to do some serious introspection.

I remember when I was 7 or 8 years old and when each additional month was special and quite important. So, at different stages, I would be 7-1/4, 7-1/2 or 7-3/4 years old. Tired of being referred to as a half-ticket, one’s sole ambition in life was to somehow crawl and make it to the status of a ‘full-ticket”. One made progress, slowly but surely. One kept count of the months..

At 12, I used to lie that I was actually 13 years old, aware that only then I would be admitted into the ranks of teenagers. When I was really 13, I had bigger things to worry about. For example, was that patch under my nose really the first signs of a moustache ?

After, what seemed eternity, I became 21, although the world didn’t seem to notice it.

Then somebody stepped on the pedal; the clock and the calendar went berserk and before I realized what was happening, I raced to 30, sped further to 35, and now am turning 40. Forty! The warranty certificate issued by my Maker is no longer valid.

Actually, coming to think of it, 40 is not such a bad age to be in. I mean, look at the brighter side. At least, I am not 50, as some of my friends are, with their pot bellies and bald heads and wrinkled faces typical of that age group. Yes, 40 is ok. It’s the big five-o that I need to watch out for.

Author’s note : I had meant to post this on 06-07-1997, but what with the Y2K problem looming large, it slipped my mind. Rather now than never, what?