Then and Now

Long time ago, when things were much simpler, life was different. By “things” I mean emotions, expectations, joys, sadness etc.

As a child my play was different, my joys and my wants were different.

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Things like flower petals falling on the ground from a tall tree, finding a stray kite hanging from the roof, discovering an old ball in the attic, making brown cakes out of damp soil, hiding inside the empty and abandoned water tank waiting for the seeker to seek me. These were the joys back then.

 

I would cry every time while crossing the departmental shop because Momma would never buy me my favourite candy. I would cry when the needle would prick me. I would cry when Momma would force me to study and keep me away from watching Tom and Jerry. I would cry when my best friends would fight with me. These were the blues then.

 

I would wait to see my father come home after work. I would wait to relish Momma’s special Biryani with everybody. I would wait to sleep in Momma’s arms. I would wait for my folks to shower me with clothes for Pujas. I would wait for people to gift me gifts for my birthday, wait to rip apart the wrapping papers and see what was inside each of them. I would wait to grow old enough to apply nail polish and lipstick. These were the expectations then.

 

I would play badminton, hide and seek, sometimes even take out my kitchen set and play with an imaginary friend. I would talk to my dolls and dress them up. Every time I would hear a peppy Bollywood song play, I would rush to the mirror and dance like a superstar. I would sometimes, stealthily, take Momma’s sari and drape it around me, put a red bindi and imitate Momma’s tread. That used to be my play.

Things, now, are as complicated as being stuck in an intricate maze. My play, now, is rushing to work. Work all day. Get back home and sleep. Sometimes I go out to socialize.

My joys now are materials – a better phone, a laptop, car, house etc. I strive to achieve materials in whatever form.

My expectations have increased. My wants are complicated. Sometimes I’m unsure about my wants. Sometimes when I know my wants, I fail to have the resources to achieve my wants. Sometimes I can’t decide between my needs and my wants.

Now, I my cries are different. I cry to go back to the days when things were much simpler and life was different.

 

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