Saturday, December 31, 2011

I don't want to grow up. I've grown up enough and it's time it stopped. The days merge into one another, especially during this not-so-winter solstice, when I can feel it inside me. I can feel all that I held close to me through the years slide out of me, never to come back. Those glorious years of childhood; the slow, reticent seasons - shy almost; those memories, those experiences. Life is getting too complicated by the day, and childhood and simplicity seems like a dream one had a long time ago, when one planned to stay up all night in the terrace to watch shooting stars; where winters crept in suddenly one morning when you couldn't see the garden wall anymore because of the fog; when it rained incessantly for days and you thought the sky would fall down; when summers meant long afternoons and mangoes. There was crotchet, grannies and knights-saving-damsels on the porcelain plates. And there was always glorious sunshine, exactly when you wanted it, how you wanted it.  


  1. Yes, it's scary. The hour-long chats with girlfriends in hushed tones on!!! The silly hand knitted thick sweaters. The sillier fights at school which would obviously be over by the next day tiffin hour! I know in my heart that I am scared. The more I grow up, the more I want to go back to the past. However it was, whatever it was, it was perfect. If not perfect then, it is now.

  2. I would trade my life now for those ill-fitting, monochrome woolen hand-knitted sweaters! And to think I hated 'em then. And I call our landline back home - which is now, of course, barely used - an establishment. I have forgotten the last time I actually called a girlfriend on her landline number and chatted for hours. :(