(Been in a weird frame of mind.....wanting to write something even though I have nothing to write about.....anyhow, I may edit or add to this blog later....)
**************************************************************************
Age is just a number. But I detest it when people do not behave their age. Ironic, considering that I never behave my age. In the company of the elderly, I can talk about arthritis, devotional music and playwrights of the past; with children I can discuss school problems, grownups and hobbies. Strangely, I rarely get along with people my age!

Returning from a hiking trip, on the train from Delhi, I climb onto the topmost bunk to settle with a book. As I am reading, I notice a kid from 0ur group get onto the top bunk opposite mine. He would probably have been young enough to be my nephew.

“Hey Kalyanee! May I ask you how old are you?”

“Uh-huh….take a guess….”

“We all think you must be eighteen.” I would die to be eighteen again and iron out the kinks in the story of my life so far. Anyhow…..

“Who are ‘we’…..” It must be the brat and all his kiddo friends.

The kid shares a lot of his secrets with me. He tells me all the code names they had made up for the funny people in our group. He finds a confidante in me. We play card games and chat about the troubles of our respective lives.

Disembarked at the station, the people in our group say their goodbyes. “Bye, Kalyanee!” another kid waves to me. Some kids from our group later send me a friend invite on orkut. Heck, I dunno why I am on orkut! “Hey, since when are any of you eighteen?” I ask them, as most are underage. “Age can be anything…..” one of them says. So true…..spoken like an adult – something very few adults understand, anyways!

I am lagging behind the age brackets and life seems skewed by a few years. Like I was an infant for the first ten years of my life, a kid in my teens, a teenager in grad school and so on.

I get along really well with the elderly staff at the libraries. In our extended families, an aging Grandpa who is good at playing the harmonium, plays a lot of devotional pieces for me. He is utterly engrossed in playing and seems glad to have found a willing audience.

Mrs. J, an old cat who rarely talks to anyone these days, blabbers nineteen to the dozen with me.
“I saw the entire movie Veer Savarkar in my dream last night!” she says. “Oh yeah? Tell me the story…..” She offers me some boiled lime sweets and tells me the story in a childlike manner, while guzzling on a few sweets herself. I listen, looking at her adoringly, not wanting to lose her. Sad fact is that she has unknowingly robbed someone else of their prime age, in her utter selfishness to not be like other old folks her age. Or she is indeed beyond all that and it is her second childhood. Unwanted by most, her own claim she is no longer the person she used to be! I pray that she leaves this world with fond memories still in the hearts of her loved ones and not as a burden.

A troubled teen at the school labs, with a pierced lip, tongue and heaven knows what else…..yeah, she is troubled over the fact that her mother has a new boyfriend and her father has abandoned them. Troubled that her parents are not acting their age. She and I get along well. “Did anyone tell you that you do not look like a grad student? You could well be a Freshman….” Oh, not again!

To her the only (unwanted) advice I have is to not grow up quickly. She has the rest of her life to grow up – at leisure. Obviously she is in a haste to be at par with her mother. To show her that she does not need anyone to look after her. Maybe her mother should have never become a parent. More than incongruity with her age, she is not at terms with what the role of motherhood demands of her. Here is this lady who has a beautiful child but neglects her and there was this other person I know – born to play the role of Mommie-dom but could not beget a child. No problems - she ended up raising someone else’s and boy, she dazzled at that role!

The kids at the class where I teach Physics. They are trouble-kids according to the admin of the institution I am working for. But I do not see any mischief from them. They are rather nice to me and do their homework with enthusiasm. Some of them chat with me about their problems and issues. I am not my age, in their company.

Oh yeah, speaking of people my age - a topic I hate! There are those married ladies who act all possessive and obsessive about their guys when dealing with the singles. It is so hilarious. Did I say before that I can almost never be agreeable with people of my age group? We had gone to visit this couple and the discussion moved on to Green Card woes. (Yes, people my age seem to be out of ideas about topics of discussion)!

“We still have not received ours. It has been …. years!” the couple laments. The lady of the house asks me condescendingly, “And you – do you work somewhere…..” She probably thinks I am a wide-eyed youngster still green from college days. I just politely smile at her. Later, P remarks that I have already received my permanent residence card. Condescension swiftly changes to slight awe and then those green specks in the eyes, as if that is a milestone accomplished!

So I said, age is just a number. I do not want that Dorian Gray effect on me aging rapidly by spirit and deeds, while maintaining that cherubic innocence on my being. I would be better off dying when I am twenty. After all, age is just a number, right?