OUR story #feelsgoodman

As kids, we could not wait to grow up. We could not wait to be tall enough to be let into adult rides. We could not wait to deserve our own seat in the family car instead of some bulky’s lap. We could not wait to lean back on the chair and not have our legs dangling in free air like a couple of suicidal hobos. Boys could not wait to grow a moustache and murukivitufy it (i don’t even know what it’s called..twirl?). Girls could not wait to grow their hair as long as their moms and braid it. Somewhere between hanging on bars and trying to sneak a secret puff from our dad’s cigarette, we all grew up. I mean… we really grew up.

We grew taller than our moms and dads. We grew to dislike our amma’s upma and our appa trying to comb down our hair. We grew apart from our childhood home. We grew apart from the people that gave us a childhood. We grew distant from our grandpa and grandma. We grew like a weed into an alternate timeline that our childhood-self can recognise us no more. We grew to fall in love, to get heartbroken, to cry underneath the blanket, to stress about the future, to get high to cope up with the stress, to lose all forms of physical activity, to become obese, to land a mediocre corporate job, to be dissatisfied with what we have, to clock 56 hours on the computer, to be knocked on the head by COVID, to lose jobs, to slip tracks of education, to ponder what the fuuuuckk happened…??!!

We all grew into the uncertainties of life. And one day when we call in sick to our work and sit on our couch all day, munching away on fat and cholesterol, binging on Riverdale….. You start thinking…. Where did it all go wrong..? And when we try to press rewind, the last 6-7 years have been a blur. It has not been recorded. That is when we realise we have lived 1/3rd of the most important part of our lives in oblivion.

The only things that are bright as day in our memories are the times when we got pulled into the principal’s office, when we broke the window of the Toyota, when we called our best friends with their crush’s names, when we split one egg puffs seven ways, when we licked on the maggi plates (still do), when we had sleepovers (whatever happened to those), when we sneaked to the next apartment to play bet matches, when we got a get well soon written by our crush on the dressing of our broken arm.

And all of a sudden all we want is to travel back to our childhood home and snuggle perfectly underneath our superman and barbie blankets with our mom next to us, placing cold towel on our forehead and rubbing menthol on our chest and caressing our hair as we sleep without a care in the world.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Feels good man

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