It’s all about the number 23 with me these days, a number that I can’t seem to associate with and I stop and stare, every single time and my brain begins that familiar activity, thinking and I think to myself, I haven’t really been scared of anything. I am not saying that I have been Xena, the warrior princess or anything. It’s just that fear has always been an outsider to me. I have led such a secure life. People are always afraid of so many things, of God who I have always seen as a protector and not a threat, of losing their families. Thankfully, I have always been untouched by tragedy. They are afraid of being alone, and to me it seems, I never left my mother’s womb for everywhere I look, there is comfort, be it with family or with friends. I haven’t seen a cold cold winter’s day as there is warmth that envelops me every minute and love that tucks me in every night. Then there are people who fear money in terms of loss, but money, has never received enough importance for me to be afraid of money. Maybe, I have had sufficient money to fulfil all my needs that I never really needed more. I have screamed at the sight of a lizard, I have shivered at the thought of a ghost but ‘fear’ in the true sense of the word, I have never known. 23, opens a lot of doors to me, doors, I never knew existed, doors, I probably never wanted to enter, doors that probably never raised any interest in me. At 23, I find myself forced to venture into areas out of my comfort zone. At 23, I enter the philosopher’s “real world”, where I am introduced to questions, I would not call them insecurities but still questions, I would not ask myself before. The world, to me is a broken tape that is either moving in fast forward or maybe, it’s just me who is moving at a tortoise’s pace. Seasons have always changed but now colours have changed as well. Silver giants have replaced the cool blue or the serene green of the skies and trees. High-tech gadgets, provoking a ooohs and aahs, a magicians’ marvel, capable of doing the unimaginable, I have realised, are just nuts and bolts to me. I feel lonely, in terms as I feel like I am the only ‘layman’ amongst these very learned men and women I encounter. While, my neighbour works day in and day out towards fulfilling his dream of buying that shiny new car that he passes buy through the giant glass, everyday to work, the car that would embarrass a cheetah, I sit here, fantasizing about this dream world, a simple life with my loved ones, laughing through the day. A place where there are lush green hills, blue skies that give way to awe striking starry nights. There is a moo from a cow and a bark from a dog, there is the excitement of chirping birds. A calm river flows right next to my warm cottage. There is peaceful music that fills the environment. I dream of that picturesque scene that a painter would paint on his canvas. I dream of being that being that little girl that Norah Jones sings about, spinning, laughing and dancing to her favourite song. She keeps her eyes wide open and sings her song to any one that comes along. At 23, I have found out that I dream too much. Having been tethered by the umbilical cord, all my life, I have now discovered areas that I could not enter before. As I muster all the courage in me to cross the threshold into these “danger zones”, the so-called “realities of life”, I am overcome by this immense feeling of gratitude for it is now that I can truly measure what a wonderful life I have led so far. I feel like an explorer, sadly, I am not always proud of my discoveries, for I have not everybody is even half as lucky as I have been. As I move forward, I have unravelled the beast in “humans” that is a masochist who inflicts pain on himself, who tortures his own self, rapes himself of every thing innocent that is there inside of him. I cross into these forbidden barriers and I grasp that I am only an infant and that the universe is too vast, that being an understatement. Questions of the hows? The whys? The wheres? Do not seem important for I feel there are no answers to these in this world. Ironically, at 23, I feel like a little lost girl, who does not want to be found. I recognise that I have to find my own path. There are things to be done. There are things that I NEED to do. I am Sumira Bhatia, the girl sitting next to you in the bus gazing outside the window into the cosmic universe and this is my travelogue.
