Musings on Youth
I am 19, nearly 20. If I am lucky, this will be considered a fifth of my life complete. Perhaps when I approach the final fifth, when I am greying and exhausted; I shall be praying for it to end sooner, although I hope that is not the case. Life is finite, fleeting – and that is the beauty of it.
Earth is not impacted by our births and deaths, she has mothered us for eons and will continue to do so, until she too passes on. She is 4.5 billion years old as of now, and despite how humans have attempted to corrupt and pollute her, she is as youthful and radiant as ever. Maybe in her dying moments; another 4.5 billion years from now, she will weaken and wheeze upon her frail axis, her eyes will dry; for the oceans do not shimmer as they used to, her forests will no longer clothe her; as they do not grow lush and bountiful as they used to. She will slip into the years of decrepit disuse, the surface marked with tattoos and tapestries of her rich history fading, crumbling, derelict; her children of the earth leaving the nest to seek sanctuary. And once she is alone, when the last human has abandoned her, when the last creature ceases to stir; there will be nobody to ask her how she lived such a plentiful life! The scenes she saw or the gossip she heard.
There will be nobody to ask what the starlit sky looked like from above the cloud cover, or anybody to enquire what the birds sang or how high they flew. There will be nobody to hear how the water carved its way across her skin and nourished the land and the trees and the people. There will be nobody to hear about the grace of the moon, how she was a dear friend and how the sun was warm and righteous. There will be nobody to hear about the demise of man. Nobody to speak to, nobody who will listen. And she will remain with her stories; patiently waiting for a moment to share. Patiently waiting to be loved, after loving so generously for so long.
I hope I do not age this way. I hope I am still loved even in my final fifth, when I am no longer sharp or witty, when I am no longer limber and new, I hope my words will still form, I hope my memory is sharp and I hope my audience is ready. I cannot age alongside memories of the past trapped bitterly within my brain, with the sole purpose of dissection until my body decides to grant me peace, and empty my mind of thoughts for good. Nobody wants to live forever, an infinite sentence of existence. A life of servitude towards the cruel master of nostalgia. If the milk of youth would nourish our bones for eternity, then we remain spirited and young; we can still bend and jump and shout as we used to. However, the beauty of life and death is not as such, our vessel stiffens and withers, but the soul is hearty and strong. Age does not dampen the core, it only tests the metal.
Mother Earth may be alone in her final moments, who knows; we might pass on alongside her. But to worry about death is a waste of life. To fear the inevitable aging is a waste of youth. Take a step outside, feel the grass between your toes, hear the bird’s song dance upon the breeze. Notice how the butterflies kiss the petals of the roses and then slip away to embrace the tulips. Tremble at the sight of the mighty storm, her angst and rage of thunder and lightning; and eventual tears that saturate our soil. Feel the boundless raw energy of Earth; untamed and wild, breathless and evocative in its nature. The real tragedy is to not appreciate the fervour of youth, whilst we have it firmly in our grasp.
Tashi Raina
Tashi Raina is a Kashmiri student at UCL. She has always had a deep passion for writing from a young age. Alongside this she is a trained ballet dancer and an avid reader - her current favourite book is The Fountainhead.
3 Comments
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Sheetal
What a beautifully reflective piece!
Your words capture both the fleeting nature and the precious beauty of youth in a way that resonates deeply. The comparison to Earth’s own journey adds such perspective, reminding us how brief yet magnificent our time truly is. Thank you for expressing these thoughts so eloquently. Your ability to find hope, joy and meaning in every phase of life is inspiring. May you continue to cherish each moment, trusting that both youth and age have their own unique gifts to offer. -
Ashok Handoo 'khamosh'
As a photon lives in the present only, it tells us that past and future are mere distractions. A river’s flow tells us that past and future are merely illusion.
Life is more about the flow of vibrance from this moment to this moment again. It just calls for celebration of this moment than anything else.
Well written dear Tashi. I have always been a fan of your write ups, poems and short stories. I know you are a wonderful expressionist.
Proud of you, as always.
Nanu.
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Minesh Khashu
Well written Tashi.
When I was your age, I liked Fountainhead as well but after digging deeper I became uncomfortable with Ayn Rand’s perspectives on Altruism, Religion and Spirituality as well as gender roles.
The purpose of life overall and the joy in its various phases is well documented in our scriptures and traditional wisdom.
In many ways the past and the future are distractions and it is the present we need to embrace and enjoy.
Stay blessed.
Minesh