60 minus 1

 I never thought I would reach this point. There had been times, when reflecting on past incidents, I wondered what forces were at play. Or was it because death itself realised I never for once, either as a kid or as an adult, feared that there would be that last breath. There had been times when there were close calls. Here I am, a year closer to 60. That changed the title of “A year closer to death”, I had consistently used since 1992 on my birthday anniversaries.


Quite some interesting journey with twists, some astonishing, some confounding, some teary, some evoking hearty laughter. There were moments when I wondered how life could be so blessed, and there were moments when I wondered how ruthless life could be. I had moments when I felt stupid, actually felt no other person could be more stupid than I was at the moments, there were also moments when I felt life in a mischievous twist turned my idiocy to wisdom, moments I wondered who this brilliant guy is, and some moment I wished I was as knowledgeable as some other fellows around me.

In all of these moments, one thing is clear: I don’t have, have never had and fervently believe it is too late to have regrets. I am defined by who I am, who I want to be, and who I have chosen to be. That has its cost. And it can be huge. Dreams others, in their assumption of God’s role made a laugh, moments unacknowledged and unrewarded because no ass was comely enough to lick. And there have been moments too, I think I have been ascribed more than I did, some moments, people nice and kind have made me feel like I was, I am doing great. There have been moments when some great achievers, seeking to see themselves reflected in others around them, gave me more credit than I deserve.
I love my life, I love the life I have lived, I am already loving the life I will lead if the last breath does not come early.

It is 60 minus 1, and I am already thinking of the rewards I want to give myself. A earned title, not honorary, and the titles to be cited by others keen on sharing knowledge and lovers of letters. Let us hope the last breath doesn’t come too early.


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