I DON'T Want To Be A Child Again(Continued)

....in continuation to this post.

When I got hold of Mummy's silver anklet pair, I had to try it of course. It was way too big for my ankles and slipped out again and again. So I pulled them up on my legs until they fitted on my thighs. One of those anklets suddenly came into two halves while I was adjusting it. My heart thudded in terror as I knew I would be scolded. So I did something really great! I hid the good, unbroken piece into almirah and threw the other one into the dug-up earth near my hose for laying an underground cable. For months and months Mummy kept searching it and asking everyone. And I was living in a mixture of guilt and fear. The best part is, I was 10-11 years old at that time. Old enough to understand that it was not the piece of jewelry that Mummy wanted back, but the silver that went into making it.
I definitely don't want to live back a time when I was literally brainless.

There was social studies class test the next day. I was in 2nd standard. I forgot the test as easily as I used to forget every class-test, everyday homework, my water bottles in playground, tiffin in school, sweater in school bus and every possible thing at every possible place. In class when everybody was writing answers to questions, I was shaking in fear of scoring a zero in the exam. I happened to not submit my notebook to the teacher like it would have solved the problem forever.
This happened many times day after day and my notebook ended up in a collection of pages with only questions and empty spaces for answers. With nothing I can compare the building stress as more such pages added into the notebook every other day.
One day Didi(elder sister) saw my notebook and demanded explanation for those empty spaces and I said it was my incomplete homework. Yes, I used to be a liar. I pleaded her to do my homework and she did. The ordeal was still not over. I stood in line to get my notebook checked by the teacher, silently but furiously praying that she must not turn the pages of the notebook and see my unchecked class tests.
Was that easy for a six year old girl? I wonder if I was feeling blessed at that time!

My parents used to send me to tuition against all my struggles. I showed my tuition teacher the date sheet for 2nd standard's annual exams which I had noted down in my school diary. She saw it and was confused for some reason. Then she asked me to go to Anuj's, my classmate's house and cross check the date sheet with his. I told her many times that I had written everything as-it-is from the blackboard but she just won't trust me. I was sent out to go to Anuj's house. I don't remember if I used to hate Anuj or had a crush on him, because I was too shy to go to his house. I wandered on the roads and in gardens and after some time came back and told the teacher that he had also written the same date sheet. The teacher was still confused but gave up and did not send me anywhere else.
During exams, one day when I reached school, my classmates came running on watching me and asked, "Why did you not come yesterday?". I said, "because yesterday was no exam and so it was holiday". "No, it was Hindi's exam. Ma'am was asking about you." I gulped. I had missed an exam and it was a big big deal at that time. That was why I was asked to check my date sheet as one subject was missing from it. Only I know how I passed that day and the subsequent days, and with what dread I waited for Papa to return home with my report card declaring me 'failed' on the results day.
He came home. A thousand questions were asked. Some I replied, some I dodged away with blink of eyes. Finally he told that the teacher gave me marks for Hindi according to my half-yearly exam performance.
Do I call it the golden period of my life? In 2nd class I did not know that if I have 5 subjects, I need to give an exam of all of them!

I had been a big time Dumbo and I still am. Some characteristics stick with you for lifetime, I guess. There are too many, more than too many experiences which I can keep on writing. Earlier I used to hide my mistakes, now I resort to mocking myself. My childhood was enough once. So were my teenage years and so is my present life. At any point of time I want to live only one time of my life, that is yet to come. In hopes that one day I will finally grow up, mentally, and be less embarrassed and stupid in future.

Some photographs of a KG kid's notebook.

An explanation of the Theory of Evolution. How L changes into S and S into 3.

This one is so neat. Because the kid had to draw only joining lines.

Kid's school's Drawing. Above: by teacher. Below: by student.

Explanation: These are drawings of 'A for Apple' 'B for Ball' 'C for Cat' 'D for Duck' The kid ate up E. 'F for Fish'. Kid was still hungry. 'I for Ice-cream'

I DON'T Want To Be A Child Again

This dinosaur has no relevance to the post. But it will eat people who will not read ahead and comment.

To those who say "childhood is the best part of life", or "I wish I were a kid again", or "There was no tension then and life was good", I do not relate at all. Life, at any time, is equally trying and fun. The only difference is, when we grow up we know how to put the blame somewhere else for all our problems. We have this tendency to prove the present time as the most difficult and project ourselves as a victim of circumstances. So we sum up things thinking that growing up was a cursed thing to have happened.

Now think of it; a child is a child after all. We cannot expect him/her to be stressful about submitting a report before a dangerously close deadline or to go through the pain of break up or divorce. However they have their own problems suiting their age, like a broken favorite toy or an accidentally broken Mummy's favorite vase. Five year olds face problems according to their capacity and twenty-five year olds according to their. But we seem to forget issues which we find petty now. Although they were not then.

When the whole world is writing about the awesomeness of childhood, I am called spoilsport. Though I am no different when it comes to going weak in knees watching super cuteness of kids, but I am pretty sure I don't want to step in their shoes. I have had enough of my own time playing in mud and rain. Because giving it a practical thought, a child is not enjoying his/her childhood in a way we perceive. The one who is enjoying is a person watching them, who is probably dealing with a huge debt or something like that. So even if a Jinn realized our dream to be a kid again, we would find our so called petty issues graver than our father having lost his laptop.

By now I know I always end up writing about myself sooner or later. So I am not sparing this chance either. Every theory needs to be backed by examples. So I present my childhood at service. Just a small warning before you proceed to read further. If you become uneasy or furious reading extreme level of stupidity, utter ignorance on someone's part or infinite degree of dumbness, quietly sneak away and save the peace of your mind.

Have you gone?

Okay, I give you an another chance. This post has already become quite lengthy. So I break it here and if you want to read further, click here.