Friday, August 14, 2026

My twenties staring at me

Next year, I will be 52. And yet, if some benevolent genie suddenly appeared and said, “You have one boon. Where would you like to go?” — without even blinking, I’d say,

“Take me back to my twenties!”

Whoever said growing old is graceful must have been a frustrated soul—or perhaps someone who never properly enjoyed their twenties!

My twenties had every possible shade of life. Struggle, hope, success,rommanticised patriotism, quixotic idiocy, longing, separation, dreams, aspirations, heartbreaks, unexpected joys—and destiny constantly playing its little tricks, cutting short some dreams while opening doors to others. There was excitement, uncertainty, madness and magic. Looking back, I feel there isn’t a single shade of life left that my twenties didn’t make me experience.

Then came the thirties and the decades after that—stability, responsibility, discipline and predictability. Life became more “conventional.” You know, the respectable, responsible, good-boy-of-the-neighbourhood version of yourself! Somewhere along the way, the fun got quietly escorted out of the building.

But then comes night.

As the night grows older, yesterday’s music begins to play—the songs that once rocked my twenties. And suddenly, something magical happens. The years disappear. For a few moments, I am no longer 51 or almost 52. I am twenty-something again—carefree, hopeful, restless and full of impossible dreams.

Sometimes I stand before the mirror and try to negotiate with the person staring back at me. The baldness? Gone! Well… mostly. A tuft of hair is bravely protesting against time.

The protruding belly? Somehow trimmed down.

The face? A little wiser, perhaps. The eyes? Still searching for that twenty-something version of me. And for a fleeting moment, I find him.

My twenties.

Maybe we never really grow old. Maybe we simply collect responsibilities on top of the person we once were. And every now and then, a song, a smell, a place or a memory lifts the lid—and there he is again.

Still young. Still dreaming. Still laughing. Still me.

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com