Tim Lak Lak

When you are little, she makes you want to grow up. When you are grown up, she makes you want to be young. When you are in college, she makes you crave for a job. When you end up having one, she makes you lust for the good old college days. When you are a subordinate, she makes you long for being the manager. When you do become one, she makes you pine for the carefree life free of responsibilities. When you are forty, she makes you yearn for retirement. When you retire, she makes you ache for the days of youth when you could make your own decisions.

But you never make your decisions. She does.

For some reason, I have always imagined life to be a female. In my mind, she is a fair-skinned woman with dark unkempt hair, big teeth and too much mascara. She is always laughing, her eyes twinkling gleefully. She is the master puppeteer and she is the audience. And she is never satisfied. When you bend, she makes you stand up. When you stand, she makes you whirl round and round till you are dizzy. Before you have regained your balance, she makes you bang your head to her beats. And when your head starts aching, she still wants you to hiphop with a smile on your face. She loves nothing more than making you dance. Whether you like it or not.

The one who always hated waking up early, reaches the office before his friends wake up. The one who was scared of crowds becomes a regular in the city bus. The one who loved cheese and cakes starts living off salads and fruit juice. The one born and brought up in the fresh village air gets used to the congested city atmosphere. The one who loved her mother the most decides to live in a city 1000 kms away. She made them dance to her tunes, and they did.

They are us. Dancing to the music of life.

Tim Lak Lak te Tim Lak Lak.