21 Till I Die | Laxmi Hariharan

21 Till I Die

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21 Till I Die


21 days of repeating the same action day after day creates a habit. It takes another 21, of abstinence to break it.

Surviving the first twenty-one weeks in a womb normally means a good chance you will get through the next nineteen; to emerge into the unknown: walking a path that billions have traversed, yet which will be unique to you.

Then, when your soul departs your body, it is said it takes with it 21 grams of that essence which made you human; which sometimes differentiated you from the tame city foxes at the bottom of your garden. Though you have more in common with that reined in beast, and the domestic cats, which frequent your doorstep. Yet, while even these animals vary their routine, you realise you find solace in yours. Indeed you cling to your damn routine with a fierceness that often confounds.

Both life and death seem to be at the mercy of fate. A fate, which is as often decided as much by the throw of a dice, as by parents who attempt to steer you for the first twenty-one years of your life. Until, you taste that coming of age freedom, and travel in search of adventure: trying to define what makes you. A question, which will haunt you for the rest of your life: most of it spent undoing that, which you have been conditioned for.
So, when I found myself writing the 21st episode of the Ruby Iyer series, I  sensed I had crossed a line.
From being a fragment of my imagination, she lived now in real time. Hated by few, read by others, loved by some: nevertheless she was there. I was here.
What had gotten the words out, week after week was that same habit of being consistent, sticking to a routine too.

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