I have been feeling a little melancholy these past few days. Perhaps age is catching up with me unannounced. Or perhaps it is simply the sudden realization of it. But was it really sudden?
Maybe I have sensed it all along—quietly lingering at the edges of consciousness, teasing me each time I stand before a mirror, or whenever someone calls me aunty.
Can one truly sense oneself growing old? Many people I know claim they never noticed it happening. I am one of them. There seems to be a curious tension between physical awareness and subconscious denial. The body leaves its small reminders, yet the mind continues to inhabit an earlier version of itself, refusing to fully acknowledge the passage of time.
The body leaves its quiet clues, but the mind remains stubbornly unchanged. Perhaps that is the strange thing about ageing: it happens in plain sight, yet somehow escapes our notice until one day we catch a glimpse of it reflected back at us. Not as a shock, but as a familiar stranger we have been meeting all along.
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