Rite of Passage

     I read a friend's blog recently that had something to say about the gender-stereotyped nightlife in the part of the world he lives. He wondered whether it was he who was going senile or was it really just a phase of transition  a rite of passage in the life of the people he saw. Well, I don't know. But yes, I love the phrase.
     It is indeed surprising how one changes. From being an infant, to being a toddler, to travelling through years of childhood; passing years as a primary school student, to realising that you are no more that child who went to school. Everything changes. They say,

Change is the only constant.   

     So, is change good? Is it bad. Is it not. After about a good five minutes of starting to write what I intend to write, I have realised that the quality of the rite of passage from boyhood to manhood, from girlhood to womanhood, from childhood to adulthood is variable  just like the course of a meandering rivulet. You decide to take the path of transition. The transition must happen. Good or bad depends on you. I might have a number of people asking me why I'm how I am. I could have been worse, could have been better. But I chose this path of transition. This rite of passage. And I choose to live with it, walk along it. Well, now that I have decided to, I have to. That is where the joy of transition is.