Thinker Me

I think it is in my father's family normally to think too much when one has free time (or time when nothing can be done) to think. Think too much, to brood, that is. I've seen my grandfather, who's now in his middle 80's, sitting on the porch in his wood-and-cloth easy chair in the afternoons, on rainy days especially, seemingly looking through thick glasses (I am told the thickest possible prescription) into nothing at all with his eyes glazed over with the reminiscence of times past. The man has ironically gone through much in his rather uneventful life, through much embarrassment, much suffering, and certainly much disappointment. The only reason I think he has lived this long and is as healthy as he is,— and his being alive today is a great surprise to me— must be his deep faith.

But I think like my grandfather my father is one who thinks too much, and at my age, young though I still am, I am starting to detect this quality that I once used to think came with age and experience. I think it is my very being to think about things, to regret, to hope, to simply brood on life. Now that I think about it, even as I child, my favourite (though I admit that it was not a conscious choice) pastime was brooding. I would spend endless hours in my room, especially after the death of my maternal grandfather, thinking about the future, thinking about the past and thinking about nothing in particular. Of course, with age, this habit (or should I call it instinct?) has only become worse. Now, it is not merely a passive occasion, especially as the time that I have to myself (in commuting, where one cannot do anything else) has increased in amount.

Indeed with age, the content of my thoughts has changed a lot as well. Once, I used to think of my joining my father, far removed from me by circumstance. I used to think of my grandfather, who loved me and spoiled me with gifts. Now, I think about friends, about all those wrong turns I've made with them, about all those missed opportunities to have asked a girl on a date. I feel rather like every teenager, and then some. Indeed, most teenagers don't have the added curse of thinking about ethics, which I do. I think on dating — I mean that I actually dissect the merits and demerits and the implications for myself. I worry about my parents, I worry about what it would mean to them I were to date, though their point that it could potentially ruin my studies through distraction is a valid point. I think about this, I think about this and a thousand other things. 'Cogito, ergo sum.' — 'I think, therefore I am.'