Elvis has left the Building

Elvis has left the building,

It all started with the phrase by a very good friend (Credits to follow in the end), “The louder the music, the older you are”.

The writing of-course has nothing to do with the Notre dame of Music and the king of rock and roll. Being closely related to marketing field, I thought it might catch some eyelids for otherwise usually a dry response to my blog post, but of-course it holds some resemblance to the great man, Elvis.

This write up is all about “Legacy”.

Well I never imagined, If, of all the People, I would be writing about getting Older or to cut short, AGE. But here I am, at – years of age ( Reasons for not disclosing will also follow ), writing about the most important, albeit controversial topic (Specifically for the opposite gender ) AGE. It is not a well thought event, but is just like a sudden wake up on the “other” side of an island, and just trying to have the prerogative built with a transition from one island to the other, if there was any transition. Sorry, I never had a transition.

This was inspired by some random set ofevents, some shocking, intriguing conversations with friends, and of-course how to forget the visit to Saloon and Usage of Gillette in the monthly bill.

I go back to the phrase where it all started, “The louder the music, the older you are” and this took a new imperative turn on me, because it was all going to well at a house party, Loud music, lots of food, friends frolicking, yelling, where in I pitched in first by reducing the volume, and also commanding the troops to follow decorum by reducing the decibel levels.

Will it be termed under a non cognizable crime? Well not really, but given the topic under discussion, I can’t even manage a parole.

The same week, was followed by another shocker. Well honestly, you never think you are old enough till the time, you get into a gully, where the future Rs 200 crore, brand ambassadors are playing our one day would be National Sport. I was not left behind, and I did enter a gully. And just like how the alarm gives you a rude awakening on Monday morning, I woke up. Nowadays, even gullys are filled with cars parked in all geometrical shape. So Terrace is where the sport is, but would still term it Gully cricket. The ball landed on my feet, and I bowed down to pick it up, there was a call, “UNCLE, sorry, please give the ball back”. Woah, Did the kid even look at me properly to address me in such rude manner ? Or did he look at me with eye to detail like the CIA agents in another Hollywood flick, to address me like that ? I really didn’t have an answer, I threw the ball up, (thrice to be honest) so that it has the thrust to reach the terrace, and the worst was to follow, three throws, and the arm already ached.

Working with colleagues who have great sense of humor is a blessing. Especially, when that is the only thing that keeps you afloat. But sometimes overdose of it, leaves you with no choice but to sulk. It was another one of those discussion on how you are going to shape your future where in my dear friend ( I Told you credits to follow suite ) commented, dude “we” have reasons to worry. We have 56 % of our life pending to live, and in that what can we do justice to ? WOAH 56, God help me break the mystery derivation of the number, but if it is true, with Medicinal blessing, I wonder where did my 44% of life vanish?? I vaguely remember laughing, spoiling plans, puncturing tires, throwing tantrums, breaking windows, fighting, brawl etc or even the first viewership privilege of soft porn.
Was I in selective amnesia and suddenly woke up to the fact that I have only 56 % of my life ahead ???But the realization of the no of age wasn’t the shocker, the shocker was to decide on priorities for the remaining 56% of my life. I am wondering, if I really would be able to make justice to the remaining part ?

Work place is where you spend 70 % of your time that you are awake. And All the happening in the work place has more than double the impact on how the remaining 30 % is going to be spent. Well there was a time, when I was a toddler in the corporate life, where I used to be addressed as a kiddo, a youngster, etc. Well honestly, it did vacillate my school of thought and forced me to sport a moustache and a French goatie, But the plan backfired, now the same facial reincarnation is what makes the new joins in the corporate world who get a rude welcome by having to meet me first in their new world , address me as “Sir”, and of course the perception that “I am very serious and senior person” from people I just spoke to. Well talk about oxymoron.

The last, but the pinnacle of frustration is your trip to saloon, or get ready for one exhaustive trip to your friendly neighborhood saloon. How you might wonder? But honestly, the last time I went to a saloon to have a hair cut it was some good 3 months back. Now that will go as Quarter expenses in my P & L statement, because there was a time when it was almost a monthly visit. The catch 22 here is a very fact that am shelling out oozles in the Gillette to upkeep the goatie, will take care of the monthly or expenses. Well it aint really about the money here, but woah, but the fact that the growth in the head is taken over by the face is unnecessary intrusion in the transition. The white silver lines here and there, amidst a balding oval head, and face looking like, a prisoner out, does not really auger well here. I hate to go to the saloon for the reason, he might laugh that I am trying desperately to have the trimming done, or he would not take money for having to do so less or NO work, or worst, if he would have to ask “ Sir want a dye ?”.

I agree that age is a painful number, and now am really empathetic towards all those elderly boisterous gentlemen, retired , who still come to jog, drive and walk, and still want to be considered amongst the crowd. Or the ones who say, oh good Lord help your generation. I am sure they would have gone through the bell curve, or still reeling through the syndrome.

But the realization ain’t that. The realization is, do I really have to care on that number that helps me in getting retirement benefit ?
Am I not still the 6 year old Calvin, that my friends address me as? Well why spend the remaining 56% of the future worrying about the 56% or lesser or say more? We all know that our age will be as part of a quadratic equation for kids, and CAT aspirants. And it really will help them score some brownie points.

While writing this piece, I have already entertained two complains about LOUD music from my place, sitting in a room, with a round neck t shirt, with Gelled Spiked hair, and with facebook on. Talk about being young.

It doesn’t matter to me as I have realized I have sailed to the other side, while failing to realize, even if the boat didn’t move, the water was flowing. Age is just a number, and the kids will call me UNCLE, and I did the same to aplenty during my time. Its just natural. I would not carry the number in my head, or even in my heart.

For the comment on the music, I would give credit to Mr Pavan Bhosle, who being couple of years elder to me, was still younger on that day 

And o fcourse for giving the numerical data of 56 % I thank Mr Abraham, Oh good lord wonder how you managed that equation.

I finally apologize for flaunting too many of numbers here and there, but that is what I wanted to portray. It’s all just numbers, taken seriously, will result in another numbers in Medical biils.

I am not cutting down the sweet intake, although will be responsible in usage. Aint cutting down on the calorie, because not impacted too harshly. I am Only cutting down on frivolous idiosyncrasies that made me look like a retired Colonel. Cutting down on all those nonsensical things, to make me look cooler with gentlemen I have to put up with everyday.

I am sure, I would follow the curious case of Benjamin Button way, and am sure I would have you for company.

After all,

Elvis has left the building  