I look in my wardrobe and it makes me sad. I find more shirts and trousers, than my jeans... Sensible shoes line the bottom shelf, shoving my strappy heels out of sight. Laptop bags have replaced my leather bags and multicoloured jholas, and there is a drawer dedicated to “formal earrings”... I can’t find my bangles, my huge earrings, cocktail rings anymore without a mammoth search! Bank statements litter my bedside table drawers, credit card statements and phone bills worry the shit out of me! My research papers are a pile on my table, books and articles and what not!! My last novel was I think a year back... Late night texts come only from naukri.comor monster jobs and Sundays are spent catching up on sleep.
I don’t know when we grew up but threes no denying that we have. Worker drones now, queen bees of years gone past.
Up without an alarm and in bed by midnight, our social lives are practically nonexistent. A horrible shade of grey I never thought I would become.
But somehow, in all the non drama, and boringness, we’re somehow still the same. A two hour phone conversation, incessant whatsapp pings keep us as involved in each other’s lives as of were still 3 doors down from each other.
Still here for the randomness, still here for the gossip about people we don’t even care about, still here as support, as a safety net, still here for the advice-good and bad, for the drunk dialling, for the ex bashing and bad planning, were still around. And it’s easy to be us when we’re all there :)
Happy growing up!!
