This is just me ranting about how pathetic I actually can be.

I remember Grade 9th when I couldn’t get enough of books. I’d only recently been introduced to the pleasures of reading (Losing sleep was a part of the package.) I read everywhere, in the bathroom, on the bus, in classes, lunch breaks, in the sports room, on the bus again. I used to stay up all night. Doing what? You guessed it right, reading. I remember dozing off while writing exams and then someone or the other would kick me under the desk and I’d have to excuse myself from the classroom to go splash some water and maybe, catch a minute or two of some much needed sleep. Damn, what’d I do to go 5 years back in time? I’d pay an arm and a leg, that’s what I’d do. (Okay, answering rhetorical questions is never a good sign. Especially, if the question was asked by yourself.) I wouldn’t mind the Double Maths on Saturdays or even Hindi and Marathi so much and that’s saying something because I absolutely hated those subjects and I wouldn’t even mind roller skating every Saturday for the Activities period and falling on my butt every so often. I want to go back to playing chess with the bestie (Pratz, I can remember a few times I could beat you, I’m not talking about going back to the times when I lost. Okay?), those usual badminton games and the once-in-a-blue-moon volleyball game, which was another thing I absolutely hated. (You would too, if you ended up getting hit by the ball far more often than you hitting it.) I want to go back to the time when I didn’t feel the need to go around singing, “Zindagi ne zindagi bhar gham diye” at the top of my voice and then later realizing that it would be too pathetic even for me, (not to mention that I’d be getting death threats from those around me for making their ears bleed) and that I’m supposed to be as awesome as Kung Fu Panda. Or not. That’s Jazzy’s work. I’m supposed to be as cool as Tigress, so then I’d instead go around singing ‘Banana Pancakes’ to myself and possibly even make some and pretend to be all fine and dandy. I want to go back to being innocent and not pretend to be it. I want to go back to the time when smiles were as easy as A-B-C and 1-2-3 and I didn’t have to force my facial muscles to twitch to form a smile that looked more like a grimace or when the only time I had to do some serious thinking was when we had to write a 200 word essay for the exam and there wasn’t enough time left. At the time, those troubles seemed to be as big as mountains and now, they seem as petty as an ant hill (empty, of course.) I’ll take those over the present ones any second of any minute of any hour of any day. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. I wish it could, I really do, but then again, I also wish that the mountains were made of chocolate and the clouds were made of marshmallows and the snow of white chocolate and the rivers of butter cream frosting and the trees of After Eight mint squares and rocks of Maltesers and mushrooms of Cupcakes. Yeah, I think we’ve already established that wishing is no good, it’ll only make your mouth water.

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