Sailed ship of Hobby

Sailed ship of Hobby 

I seem to be a copybook retiree. I do everything a retired person does; walking, reading, writing, snoozing, meeting people, listening to music, agonizing over my insomnia, cleaning the house, and so on. Yet, after all these mundane and dimwit things I do, I have some time on my hand. 

My friends tell me that a hobby may just be what I need if I want to keep my sanity. Hobbies had no use for me when I was a young boy. I lived in a house full of rowdy boys and girls. We played all kinds of games all day and never felt bored. I lived with my aunt and not with my parents. Between her and a family servant, they shaped my destiny. So unlike other young boys, I had lots of discipline and regimen to follow. All these left no time to look at hobbies. 

As a young schoolboy in a mofussil town, my exposure to the world was restricted to the district library and Gita recital class that I attended. Somewhere between these two institutions, I learned that developing a hobby is a thing to do if I want to do something with my life. 

A visiting relative from Africa gifted me an album to make stamp collection. Since my universe was restricted to postcards, I never knew what stamps are. I was too broke to buy them and too socially insignificant to receive letters bearing stamps. Finally, a torn revenue stamp was all that I managed to place in that album. 

Cricket and football were two games I played in school days. I could feel stirrings of passion for these games. However, I did not progress much due to my inability to buy a ball or a bat, and the physically stronger boys muscling me out of these games. Besides, I was beginning to feel silly running between wickets in my short pants and always thought that game is not worth it if I have to share a ball with 10 other guys. 

While in college, I flirted with public speaking, dramatics, and all other activities where good looking girls hung around. With such frivolous criteria, no serious hobby surfaced until I completed college. 

My salesman days were too hectic to do anything else but travel. I changed the town every night. I slept in train corridors; I traveled standing all night by bus. Hobby was a far cry then. 

Reading is one thing I can call my rightful hobby. Reading habit began when an uncle of ours got a contract from the district library to bind old books. We boys were allowed to pick our choice of books to read and helped cart books back and forth to the library. 

During my management days, people asked me to take up golf. But snobbery of game and prospect of spending time with a golfing partner who may constantly talk ended that thought. 

For my sunset days, I have made a shortlist of hobbies. I do not want this ship to sail yet. Not for a decade at least. I must have new hobbies and by god, I shall have them. I am reluctant to share my shortlist here for fear of being laughed at or worst realizing not having enough passion to carry them through. 

You see, one has to provide for one's age and eccentricity.