Morning Blues?

This is gonna be a long post. There is nothing interesting here. It’s just an outlet to my sudden urge to write.

There are times in everyone’s life when you get a feeling that too much is going on. Your work never seems to end. You long for those days of lazing in the afternoon sun and watching tv in an AC room while having something cold like rooh-afza simultaneously. Somehow, most of my friends seem to have forgotten that there was a time in their lives when they actually had no worries and could peacefully sleep at night without caring about homework tomorrow. I guess that is good in a way. You can’t miss what you can’t remember you ever had.

I, on the other hand, can remember all of it. When we used to start playing hide and seek early in the morning, get called back in the afternoon, have lunch, come back and simply talk while sitting on stairs. It was fun. I miss those days with Akshata, Venkatesh and all the others who came and went in the flat. I guess, for a long time, akshata was the only constant friend in my life.

Do not take me to be a sucker for the past. I hate reliving old memories. Why? Because they’re the best I have and remind me how much simpler life could’ve been had I not grown up and conquered the aging mechanism.

We just confirmed a project guide for ourselves in college. It made me realise I’m an adult now. I can no longer attribute my mistakes to immaturity because according to the likes of Dr phil, I shouldn’t have any. I can no longer relax and let my parents take care of stuff. And there is no way on earth I can dream about “when I grow up”. The ads on tv which I thought were meant for me when I was a child mean nothing any more. They look senseless and feel senseless. I see school vans going about when I go out in the evening at home and I search if my old vans is one of them. Then I realise I don’t go to school anymore. The vans don’t mean anything to me. What little sense of belonging I had to that mode of transport has been lost on me and probably transferred to another child who will get just as disillusioned as I was. One day, he too will grow up and discard this delusion. All signs of my childhood ever having existed are getting erased. Amar Chitra Katha may continue but uncle pai will no longer be behind it. Children no longer run about in my old flat. Akshata tells me the same people have lived there and grown older. No longer is there the shouting of children which used to be delightful to my senses a long time ago since it meant I had company. A few days ago, when I came back home, there were a bunch of kids playing around and I found the noise intolerable. I told this to my mom and she started laughing telling me, “you do remember that, not more than 5 years ago, that was you down there?” .. I brushed it off but then I realise, she was right.

Somehow the bright sunny days when we used to have fun and frolic without a care in the world have turned into days of constant worry day and night about what the Next day would bring. The realization that you can no longer rely on your parents to make plans for you tomorrow. They aren’t there to do your laundry, cook your food, feed you at regular intervals and Call you back if you stay in the sun for too long. I get a strange feeling when I go home these days. I feel like I’m intruding in the life of my parents. My hostel, which until two years ago, I would have misspelt as hostile and not given it a second thought, seems safe. It feels like home or as close as it gets to home.

I dunno if I’m as emo as this post will make me sound but I can tell you this – if something could make me a child again and let me live the absolutely contented life I led before all world around me tore apart, I would kill for it. Yes, I think I really would.

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