Age(-ing...?)

[Excerpt from journal entry dated Monday, 22 October 2007, 10.12pm]

Today is Rahmat’s birthday. He is 27 years old. Colleagues were milling around him heaping birthday wishes. Out of the hubbub I overheard a colleague exclaim, “You’re so young!” when he learnt of Rahmat’s age. 27 is 5 years away from me, and a scary thought. But my colleague’s astonishment was quite justified, given that the average age in the dealing room is around 36.

An email popped into my inbox just as I was about to close my Outlook. It was a ‘spam’ email from Ssin, addressed to the whole Spam Gang. [Started when about 10 of us were planning a trip to PD, and communication was solely via email. So one person writes an email and shoots it off to 9 others, and when we started to banter back and forth the barrage of emails that clog up our inbox resembled spam]. No trip-planning this time, just a random email from Yiling (who started this round) who was suffering from chronic Monday blues and wanted to share some random thoughts. Ssin thinks that time is running out, and Yiling and Vanitha echo the same sentiment. So much to do, so little time. So many ambitions, too much procrastination. And these people are at least a year younger than I am. And when people younger than you are starting to have these thoughts…you finally start to feel the pins and needles in your butt as a result of sitting around for too long.

I don’t think 27 is young. Okay, 27 is not old. But 27 is when you start assessing your goals (RM30k per month from passive income by 30? And I haven’t even acquired my first piece of property), benchmarking your performance thus far (okay my peers are already managers, and I’m still a senior exec…crap!), evaluating your ‘status’ (aunts who poke you in the ribs during your cousin’s wedding, going ‘ah-gerr, when is your turn ah?’…when there isn’t even a decent dude in the radar). Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a tad here. But seriously, 27 is getting uncomfortably close to the 30 threshold…no?

I wonder what went through the mind of my colleague when he made that remark. Was it tinged with regret? Did he wish he had done more? Did he wish he could go back in time? But of course, that’s just plain crap. We do not waste time sitting on our arses when we’re 23 wishing we were 16 again, nor do we at 27 wish we were 23, neither do we wistfully gaze at 27 when we are 39. Or do we…?

The other day my dad was chatting with a long-time-no-see relative, when I overheard him say, ‘Me? I’m 57 already!’ It pierced through my consciousness. For some reason, my subconscious stopped tracking daddy’s age after he hit 53, and mommy’s at 50. And for four years I had always thought that dad’s 50-something. And mom had been 50 on the dot for the last four years.

57. 36 months to the 60 threshold. What have I done for my father thus far? Do I make him proud?

I’m beginning to feel a sense of urgency……