Holidays. The time to relax. To get away from the hectic hustle and bustle of university life and enjoy nature, pursue long-forgotten hobbies, listen to plenty of music and watch shit-loads of TV (or, in my case, browse the ‘net). To forget about food courts and sad little bowls of maggi and eat home-cooked food. To leave all your worries behind, at least till the exam results come in. In other words, holidays are the time to, in local speak, just chill. And I’ve been chilling – oh yes, I have. In more ways than one.
When things go wrong, they go wrong in abundance. Yesterday was one of those days. My mother and I were cleaning the house to get ready for a pooja to be held today, and everything that could go wrong was going wrong. Clothes were going missing, and if they were around, they were … er, leaking. Colours, that is. Washing machines were also leaking, leaving stained, coloured water pouring all the way into neighbouring rooms. The kitchen was looking more and more like a survivor of the apocalypse. The house, instead of looking cleaner, was getting alarmingly more cluttered by the minute.
And in the middle of all of it, I stood unfazed, staring calmly at the mess, figuring out ways to fix the situation, while my mother proceeded to freak out. And then it hit me. I didn’t put much thought into it when I wrote “Calm, cool and collected” in my blog description (*points up and right*), but yesterday I realized how completely true that is.
I am calm, cool and collected. (Most of the time anway.) (And, of course, until I see a cockroach. That part is definitely true.) I don’t freak out much and I don’t usually have mental breakdowns. I’m like my father that way – he’s the kind who’ll never hurry up or worry about anything. My mother is the complete opposite – she’s the kind who’ll set a target time of half an hour before necessary so that we’ll be on time. It probably drives her nuts that he’s so matter-of-fact about everything, and it probably drives him crazy that she gets so easily worried.
I don’t know if this is a recent development or what, but I find myself less and less fazed by anything that happens around me as time goes on. Nothing bothers me too much anymore (except stupid plot points on Smallville, but that’s a whole other issue), but the thing I find myself wondering is – is that a good thing? Am I supposed to be this blasé about everything? Or maybe blasé isn’t the right word. I’m not apathetic or indifferent or bored with life. No, I’m just not too overly worried by the problems I face. I’m able to rationalize calmly, be matter-of-fact about everything that happens, every challenge I’m faced with.
Maybe I’m only noticing these things because I’m constantly around my Mom these days and the contrast really shows. Or maybe I really have changed in the past few years and I’ve learned to take control of things and face problems head-on. Who knows.
All I know is that I’m happy this way. I’m happy not getting worried about every little thing, I’m happy not to have a gazillion things running through my head, getting me confused and anxious. I’ll be very happy if I manage to stay this way through the years to come, through the many many problems life will throw my way. Here’s hoping.
As for now? I’m just chillin’. 🙂