Losing Oneself..

Losing oneself is defined as 'Become deeply absorbed or involved in. This expression alludes to becoming so absorbed as to forget oneself'.

Recently, I came across an article in a regional newspaper, where the author, a lady, looked back on her past and rued.

It got me thinking.

Times have been innumerous, when I lost the sense of time and place , so engrossed I was with what I was doing.

Repeated calls by mom, unanswered , as I drown in the plight of poor Oliver Twist ..

The lost track of time while listening to Sanjeev Abhyankar rendering a splending Kalyan..

The most unladylike screaming and pumping of fists as the cricket match inched towards a nail biting finish..

Dinner time, long forgotten amongst the hours spent chatting with friends outside our school-gate, holding our bicycles by the handles and shifting weight from this leg to that to relieve the stiffness building up for standing too long..

Such were the pleasures of being a much doted upon girl of the family - a carefree girl, with no weight of responsibilities bearing on my shoulders.

My head used to be filled with things like school and studies, friends and picnics, songs and books..

Free abandon, recklessness came easily, well , I never noticed that it was there in first place..

So was I lost in these happy pursuits - ignorance was bliss in the truest sense!

And then, this girl grew up, got married, became a mother.

The girl who used to wake up from bed and walk straight to the table for breakfast now plans all three meals in her head as she brushes her teeth?

The girl whose weekends were one slumber fest to another now spends the good part of a weekend on household chores, to be ready for the working week?

The girl who spent late nights reading, talking or watching movies, now tucks in often while reading a bedtime a story to her little one?

Who would have known?

The old me is lost in myself, and I've become a new me..

Somehow, the free mind is reigned in..

Now between the notes of the favourite song in my ear, floats the sound of the hissing cooker ..'remember to turn off the heat after third..'

As the IPL match draws claps and cheers in the living room, I hover on the boundary of the kitchen - half mind tuned to the TV, half on the simmering sauce on stove..

As I skip a meal on a lazy day, to wolf down few more chapters of the un-put-downable book, the return of a hungry toddler from school looms large on mind..

Thus has become the way of life - measured, calculated, always planned and safe.

Noone asks you to be this way - but you just mould your life around these daily things.

I think about that girl I used to be, and the woman that I have become.

And I silently thank my parents and friends and teachers for giving me a childhood that I can very fondly look back upon - a place where I indeed lost myself and became a new me.