Happy birthday, dear 25 year old me

Happy birthday, dear 25 year old me. I like 25.

I like 25 because it’s kind of young, and it’s kind of old. I like 25 for it makes me realize that one-third of my life is over, for it makes me realize that life actually is too short, for that Kal Ho Naa Ho songs never made more sense than how much it does today.

I like 25 because it gives the rishtedaars a reason to crib, and I love how they crib. I like 25 because I don’t know who I love, and what I love, but kasam se I’m trying hard. I like 25 because I can still break, and fail, and fall into pieces, into so many pieces that it’s hard for anyone to recollect, but I can recollect myself because I’m just 25.

I like 25 because I’m not ‘kiddo’ enough to hit on that girl elder to me, and not old enough to hit on that girl younger to me. I like 25 because 25 feels just right.

I like 25 because the alcohol is legal, or maybe I don’t like 25 because the alcohol is not going to be fun anymore.

I like 25 because I like ‘liking’ that MBA college status, that happily married status, that raising of a million dollar funding status, that viral video status of 25 year olds like me. I like 25 because I know I’m still not there, I know I can get there, and I know that even if I don’t get there, I’m going to be just fine.

I like 25 because of the number of unanswered questions it gets with it, because life ahead is uncertain. I like 25 because I like uncertain.

*This post was written on 11th September, that’s when my birthday is 🙂 *

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