Birth Pangs

I live in a crowded, ever-shifting locality, and though it had never been a cause of concern for me before, for the past few years I find that I've tired if it. As much as I love food, I'm tired of the new, newer newest restaurants that keep opening up. I'm tired of the new buildings that forever keep rising.And I feel angry every time that I look up skywards to see only smog and none of the stars that I've spent a childhood trying to count. Environment is something I'm truly concerned about, especially since last year when I experienced the warmest winter of my life. But I digress.

Sometimes, there's only so much of change that's good and as a blogger whom I read put it, "Change is often over-rated, and the known and comfortable past too under-rated and vilified."
Increasingly, there's a feeling that I tire of change itself. Not change as in newer experiences into which I gladly and a tad foolishly still jump into, but change as in a continuous movement.

But more than anything, I'm tired of a changing mind. Things that I hated earlier, I turn to again only to find that I like it after all. Perhaps you would remember this post where I wrote about my reaction to The God Of Small Things. The heavy pessimism still weighed down on me, but surprisingly I could just glimpse the beauty beneath the terrible reality. Sample this:
"When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less." . But what's painful is when you look at things that you loved and find that you don't like it after all. That hurts. Maybe this book was about having the maturity to have understood it. Maybe before growing up, life is about growing out of  the birth-pangs.