When I was a teenager, lying on my messy bed on a hot Friday afternoon after the Friday lecture was over — no prep classes, no sporting activities — the other kids using that time to do their laundry in the always-full laundromat, or washing it by hand in the noisy bathroom while gossiping about each other like fishwives in some boring, remote village (you know it!); lying there in my bed listening to awful rock songs on a borrowed walkman, the volume as loud as the walkman could muster with super bass mode on, playing another cheesy Bon Jovi album maybe, or Skid Row, or Def Leppard, or Damn Yankees, or Poison, or Warrant or Solo by M Nasir…. those moments, of lying alone falling half asleep on a hot Friday afternoon week after week the same routine, year in and out for five years — all those time, never, not once, could I have imagined that my life would turn out the way it does.
Now, as I sit at the back of some taxi on my daily ride to work, and I think about those days and the days that took place between now and then, and then I walk past those wondrous, majestic iron birds, it often occurs to me how far I have deviated from my original plans, whatever those plans may be.
I wish I could have told my 15 year old self — don’t worry too much about your inability to blend in or disappear in a crowd or little boys that talk too much. Just relax and listen to the music as if it was your entire world, because you know what, they were right, just like the songs promised, you will figure it out some day.
Be thankful and then, whatever will be, will be.