A New Chapter

Einstein was just about right after all. The pace of the passage of time is, all said and done, very relative. But I'm not referring to phenomena in space-time under conditions of extreme velocity and gravity, but the curious ability of the human consciousness to perceive certain slices of our lives going past faster, or slower, depending on what we are doing, or waiting for.

Looking back, my life at the beginning of the year now seems very different, not because there have been some fundamental changes in the conditions around me or the things that I do, but rather because of a gradual but steady change in outlook, direction and what I regard as important. Sure, there were pivotal moments, such as fiscal disasters every few months. There was a close brush with a job-change which was eventually put on hold in favour of doing an MBA. My best friend switched from a regular office job to a more dynamic, fluid position in an American MNC (which meant that I could no longer pick up the phone in the middle of the day to whine - hence the relativity of time passing yet slower) and then worst of all, decided to get married.

All the same however, it seems that the difference in disposition is more due to internal causes, as I found myself thinking more and more, as the year progressed, about what I wanted to do with my life once I passed the dreaded '35', even as I battled in my daily struggle to maintain an adequate level of enthusiasm in my work, fighting the drudgery, monotony and inertia which had taken firm root in my worklife. There is, indeed, something subtle that happens when one keeps performing way within one's limits for a prolonged period of time. Unlike the case with challenging tasks when repeated repetition (tautology intended) results in one getting familiar and competent in carrying them out, a prolonged period of time undertaking a role which is far simpler than that to which one was used results in a dulling of the senses, a loss of 'edge' - ask any footballer who has moved from a world-class league to a less competitive one (ask David Beckham how comfortable he would feel playing for Real Madrid, Man United or AC Milan right now).

Now, I'm not David Beckham and I was never in the Premier League, but in my day I think I have performed competently in situations far more intense than what my present job calls for nowadays. Which is why, while on one hand, time seems to have flown since the beginning of the year (I feel that January was only a short while ago), I seem to have waited a long time for August to come (I feel time could have passed faster from April to August). A contradiction, I know, but then isn't much of life?

In not trying to explain any apparent paradoxes, I would just like to say that in August at least, I'll be onto something different, a change in routine. I don't know what that bodes for in the wider scheme of things but for now, not knowing what happens next is a welcome and refreshing change.