Growing pains.

Today, I had to decide to buy a refrigerator. And then I had to pick one out as well. I don’t know anything about refrigerators. I only know that it is the place to go to when I crave for cold water. I don’t know why the measuring unit for fridge capacity is litres. I don’t freaking know what is a difference between a digital and normal compressor. It felt like a very grown up thing to do. More grown up than buying a laptop. At least I understand laptops. A little bit. But this is way more difficult. It feels like being initiated into the grown up world.

Over the last few years it has been happening a bit by bit. First sign that you are growing up is parents telling you to attend funerals. It is no longer a taboo. Which is strange because till you are a certain age, death is something you are sheltered from. Grown-ups keep you away from it as much as possible. They also shelter you from disease. You aren’t allowed to visit hospitals. Neither are you allowed to discuss stuff with the doctors.

Another part of growing up is knowing bank stuff. Like filling deposit slips, writing cheques and understanding things like yearly statements. If you are an earning member of the family, the dreaded word – investments, comes up frequently. You are supposed to plan your life. And death. Just in case.

I don’t like this at all. I don’t like attending funerals. I know no one does but what are you supposed to do if you can’t cry? There is no way on this planet that you can console someone when it comes to death. Having been on the receiving end, I just disliked people who’d try to console me. Crying people make me uncomfortable. Not doing anything makes me uncomfortable.

When all of your life, parents take all the health related decisions, suddenly discussing the best treatment for your parents is not an easy task. If you do manage to maintain equilibrium and sanity, the weight of your decisions is more than you can bear. It makes you feel like you are diminishing every minute. While, in fact, you are getting bigger and bigger every second. This is actually growing up.

The incorrigible institutions called banks become a part of our daily lives. Writing cheques becomes as easy as writing your own name and planning your investments suddenly seems to make sense. And when it does, you know that you’ve entered the dreaded territory called adulthood.

But nothing prepares you for something like buying a refrigerator. It is being responsible for a decision for the whole of 10 years that you will own it. Every time it groans differently, you will doubt yourself. And the pink flowers on the door that looked cute while you were buying it, will haunt you forever.

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