It could be a phlegmatic maneuver towards old age, but somehow, I believe that I am finally coming in terms with what could possibly be described as an understanding of “The generation gap”. I must disgracefully admit that the realization is stemming from the aversion I undergo when I compare, but then that is how the “gap” must exist.
I would, very nonchalantly, describe this gap as an amalgam of the following emotions.
- A jealousy you acquire when you see youngsters wearing clothes, displaying accessories and handling gadgets you would have never dreamt of wearing, displaying or handling at their age – jeans falling off butts like Niagara Falls, shorts taking their nomenclature too seriously by being too short, hair too haywire like grass freshly plundered by bulls, T-shirts with collar turned up like a neck-guard (if there is any such thing), glasses like two enormous black holes where the eyes should be, mobiles as big as bricks and as thin as wafers – the list is endless.
- I would also be green-eyed with the always-on-display smugness of the present generation. With due respect, my generation was always a confused lot. We still are, even after becoming mummies and daddies. We were like sheep, herded from school to college to a job. Being sure of what we wanted to do in life would have added a tail and two horns to us. We were born on a conveyer belt, either to be gift wrapped into a doctor box or an engineer box. That is why the killer cockiness of the present generation kills me at times. If I could, I would advise them to look for Baffled under B in the dictionary.
- The careless shifting of language like tectonic plates is another irritant. I still do not know what LMAO and ROFLMAO means. My best guess would be that they are UN agencies distributing food somewhere in the world. & I dnt lyk wen I gt mssgs lyk ths <- This looks like a termite attack. This also looks like the last SOS sent hurriedly from Earth before it was destroyed by a high intensity alien nebulizer.
- The fact that they get everything so easily and so young flares the fires of my envy. I remember one of my friends brought a stupid videogame to school and I played it like a loony all day hiding it under my table while the classes went on. I begged him to give me the game for one day to take home and the poor soul had to come to my house to get it back because it was confiscated by my mother. He got an excellent tongue-lashing from her for trying to derail her topper son. That is why I get misty eyed sometimes when I see this generation playing 3D games on PS3. They will never know yearning. They will never know the feeling when blood rushes to warm your heart when you acquire something you crave. In my heart, I know I mock them only to suppress the sorrow of my past coveting.
- We never had any hobbies other than running after each other in parks and rolling in mud like pigs. Swimming meant getting a dip in toxic Yamuna or maybe the largest bucket in the house. Guitar was only for crazy people with weird hairdos. Horse riding could only be done on hill-stations during summer vacations. We were intoxicated by the sweet smell of deprivation and the present generation is oblivious that any such fragrance exists. They are deprived of deprivations.
- The one word which makes me foam at mouth is – Dude. ‘Boss’ comes a close second but I shall gulp it painfully at the moment. Why does the present lot categorize everyone on this planet in one single word? A newborn is a Dude and so is a rickety old man. A dog can be a dude and so can be a pigeon. Sun is a dude and so is a lamp-post. Even peckers can be dudes! The word is an insult to the eardrums. It makes you feel so common. It sounds like someone asking for Dooodh (milk). Please don’t dude us. We are no dudes – far from it and close to Uncles. Don’t fling your young-ness on our face by using this word. It’s too clichéd now for your own good. And DO NOT exercise it with the melodious word “fuck”. Their combination makes “dude” more poisonous.
I re-read what I have written. So much acrimony (no matter how much I drape it in humor) that I surprised myself. The other day mom told me that my jeans was dangerously hanging from my hips. I checked and it was exactly where it was supposed to be. I told her that you are not supposed to pull it up till your neck. The hunter was being hunted.
I do not want to live like this – loathing younger people. I have to close the gap. I am wondering if I should talk to someone who has taken only twenty revolutions around the sun. I might hear something incredulously banal like – LMAO! U shud chillax, Dude! – But I will take my chances.
Just curious, but what is the female version of Dude? Dudess? She-dude?
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