Saturday, January 8, 2011
I still want to drink chocolate flavored milk with a straw and be yelled at for making bubbles.
They aren't really there and yet they are,lurking somewhere in those dark corners of every humanly possible edifice waiting to pounce upon you from behind and just when you'd thought they were not to be met with,again.It touches upon our lives in a way so subtle that often times they can't be pointed a finger at,they can just be felt.
We try to duck,hide,run away but it comes for all of us one day and we like a twig suspended in a calamitous weather are left with no choice but to follow wherever it may lead us.They are the changes.From the tiny ones to the life-transforming ones.We hate them,dearly wish we'd not encountered them but we somehow fail to deny them and one fine morning we wake up to find out that we aren't left with a single trace of our old selves,born anew.There's this restless feeling in the chest,like a serpent uncoiling about..some sort of an unknown craving in the soul
that spurs us to discard the old shell and in it's place grows a new one..
People around hate to see us change but they are too.Aren't they?And thus just to keep up with the world bustling with tons of changes around and not to feel left out,we make a few amendments in ourselves knowingly/unknowingly.It's a part of growing up.We change and it's like our defense mechanism.It equips us with something that helps us fight the selfish,in the process making us selfish too but it's better than being left alone to cry.Isn't it?
The past haunts us and the present is a perpetual alteration between the contentment with inertia and irksomeness of changing.We choose the latter,more often than not.Fear becomes a part of us.Fear of changes.We go ahead neglecting the pounding in the chest that asks us to hold it right there.
We've come to dislike people/things we once thought we couldn't do without and it's not strange,just reality that was an idea
that seemed too far away once..
Like a baby outgrows his baby clothes,we also tend to outgrow a few people,some habits,a couple of tastes and it's okay.It just implies we're alive and growing.
In a dark alley sunlight sprinkles in through the neatly weaved cobwebs and there knuckles pressed onto the chest sits a tiny figure.Behind the staircase those infancy-arrested eyes,tear-stained cheeks,untied shoe laces,dishelleved hair.You know it's you.Or was.It's no longer you.
You wonder how such a metamorphosis could take such less time.
There was this time when all I wanted was to grow up.And now here I am,an eight year old trapped in a nineteen year old's body and it doesn't feel good not even when I have been counting days until my College days since grade 6,for even the most longed-for changes come with the melancholy of leaving behind us a part of ourselves.We die a little with every new change in us.
I want to go back.It's all happening too fast.It makes me sit up at night and cry and at times I can't even place the reason right.
I still want to drink chocolate flavored milk with a straw and get yelled at for making bubbles.I want to pee with the door open and hang a sock outside the main door for Santa to hide a teddy inside for Christmas.I wish I could be little again when all I wanted for my birthday was new varieties of chocolates for all my classmates and a huge teddy bear.When I was little,I got everything I asked for.When I was little I had this idea that life was like an ideal fairy tale,that if you were nice enough,you'd never be alone,never be misinterpreted and never be frightened but it doesn't work that way.
When I was little recess was always too short and life too long.The one thing that's not changed even now is that life's still long.And messy.
I am not a little girl any more but I'm still learning whom to trust,whom to ignore and whom to forgive.
People we've parted with on our way of growing up have left a mark undoubtedly but the purpose of our chance encounter must've been met with.They moved on and so did we.
All through our school life we're taught how to live but everytime we try to,we're wronged.
People who were supposed to never let us down,do and the ones we couldn't dream of a day without are taken away.They shouldn't teach us how to live but how to say good-bye.And let go.The 'living' part,we'd take care of that ourselves.
Just like the ink that seeps out of fingers onto
the paper and forms that beautiful-blotchy pattern,all our journies are beautiful,like no other and incomprehensible too at that.Few people have the gift to imagine the shape of
the pattern to be like something.It's just like stopping for a while,gazing up into the cloudy sky and making a something from the scattered clouds or...figuring the patterns out from where new worlds shall emerge.
It's hard to accept,but you can't go back because life would be not-unexpected and boring.Yes,
you will make mistakes and yes you will have tough times but as long as you can truly let all of it go,you can live and make it worth living.We have to know that things were meant to happen and that each day we will learn something new,the easier way or the hard way.
So,changes,they aren't always bad.We don't have to despise them.It just needs a little forgiveness and a little more acceptance.We've all done things in life that we regret having done.We'd rather have them erased from memories,ours and theirs and for that
we'd pay any price we can but it's all a part of growing up.We didn't have to hate ourselves for growing up,just had to forgive.