I once heard someone say in passing – “Do things while you can. Life keeps getting complicated with time.” Nothing negative I draw from this statement. Life keeps piling up things – good and bad. And any pile for that matter is complicated. There is a mix of orderliness and disorderliness in that pile. From the outset, it does look disorderly. But a part of it, if not all, is always sorted.
Now, being a kid is just a part of that pile. As a kid, my pile (read life) was more or less organized. There was a routine. Breakfast, school, play, assignment, dinner, bed. The only detours were Sundays, holidays and vacations. And those were pleasant detours. And none of the detours were unexpected either in a good or a bad way. So if I summarize, my childhood was mundane in a very pleasant way. No complaints to this day about that phase!
And now the pile is so rich! Cluttered rich! It has become a melange of expected and unexpected events. But alongside the clutter reside some very defining elements that allow the pile to stay in equilibrium. The balance does not always seem perfect. The clutter at times, to be honest most of the times, outweighs the order. And I find myself recklessly looking for that order. In the process of doing that, I just wreck the pile more. Strange, but true. And here’s where I think I got somewhere close to an answer. I would definitely prefer order to outweigh. But doing that will anyhow destroy the equilibrium. I want the kid in me to be alive and simultaneously let my pile grow. It will accumulate a mixture of wonders and disappointments. That in turn will help maintain that “perfect” balance I seek.
I have complaints now, lots of them! But they help me express and have a moment of pride as I write this. Because from my pile, I found a novice writer within me!