A history of mediocrity

Can you recall an instance from your childhood when your parents sat beside you and told you you've got to be the best at whatever you do? No, not just studies. Everything. Can you? I can't. I don't remember any such anecdotal event from my past where my dad or ma coaxed me to exceed my limits. On the contrary, the environment i grew up in was relaxed. I was naturally good at academics so i was exempted from everything else. They didn't care whether i won the potato race or whether i participated in plays or dazzled in elocution competition. They just didn't give a damn. Well, they couldn't afford to. Dad was working three shifts waiting tables and ma was juggling teaching with sewing. To them, the fact that i was ranked in the top-10 was more than enough. In hindsight, i can't blame them. Being decent people with restricted ambitions, they neither had the mindset nor the need to ask their son: "Do you plan to be the best at at least one thing in your life?" Such conversations are necessary so that 20 years down the line, he doesn't stare out of the window during working hours wondering what is he great at. No, not just good. 

…...since time memorial

Memory is a retirement fund not everyone gets to cash on. If your observation serves you well, your memory never served you in the first place AS IT'S NOT YOUR SLAVE! It is the other way around. Your memory vividly remembers who you are. You may not do so as your mind loves playing weird games. On this confusing note, my dad often jokes that he doesn’t remember the day he married my mom. He even goes on to claim that he can’t even recollect the circumstances that led to their union. Needless to say, this always gets my mom seething but in the end she laughs it away. And my dad moves on to his next bad joke. End result: A good sense of humour saves a family from futile arguments. Perhaps the savior here is age, not one’s ability to maintain calm. Some call it common sense. Others call it wisdom. But this phenomenon seeps in at a price—paid in terms of years and inexperiences. You wisen up enough when to stay quiet and when not to chortle. Along the same line, when time’s busy running memory helps a lot in slowing things down a bit. During such slo-mo moments, it's quite difficult to keep in touch with reality. Fictional characters and events crop up and begin to roam around in your head. And on this confusing note (again), what if my dad isn’t joking?

More than a lifetime of incidents to recall; More than a lifetime of illusions to maul.