When I look back...

I look back at the ~22 years I have spent wandering the blue planet. And man, do I feel blessed!

A special mom, a pair of lovely siblings and more than just a dozen of amazingly good friends. Not to mention the cute ma'm in class 4 who adored me, the English Sir in class 9 who was, for some strange reason, impressed and the warden Sir at IITK.
They helped shape the good part in me. I took care of the rest!

Having seen such blessings, I don't really mind the tough times I have seen:

=The innumerable bum-punctures, on the dumbest excuses ranging from pimples to fear-of-dogs. Some of them were a part of conspiracy of my brother to have fun at my expense. If I could travel back in time, dear brother, I would still accompany you to Doctor uncle, lie with my bum facing the roof and take the injection. Because you took me to the ice cream parlor after that!

=The numerous chatacks, pinches and twisted ears. I think the last one was a good exercise for my ear lobes. I have the Limca record for lifting 5kg weights on these lobes. Each chatack taught me a lesson. And I have learnt so many lessons this way, I could write a 1000-page book.

=The intensely sad moments and the times when I wished I could take an auto to the next galaxy. They helped me appreciate the happiness in life. I learnt to laugh for no reason. And I am grateful to Thakur Travel Agency for not plying on the route to Andromeda.

=The times when I was angry - with myself, God, my life, people in general and some people in particular. It burnt away a lot of my blood and prevented obesity. Mom says anger burns your blood. I haven't seen either the fumes or the flames, but I can't argue with her!

=Not having had so many things I always longed for - a younger sis, a Maruti to take me to school, a funky girlfriend in class 10, Preity Zinta in college days, even a single reply to my zillion love letters, and many more things.

=Having to drink hot boiling milk before going to sleep, everyday for a large part of the last 22 years or so. My parents think cow milk was the next best thing to happen to humanity after cows. Probably fire also, because milk must be drunk hot, they say. I hated it, especially when it was topped up with a layer of 'malai'. Nothing helped - neither trying to make a face that said, "Help, I am gonna puke in a nano-second", nor the pleading with Mom...

"It's hot"
"No, it's not" [ I pity I didn't copyright this before they started showing it in a TV ad!]
"It's hotttttttt"
"No, it's notttttttt"

"Mummyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I got burnt. it's hot."
"I will bring burnol. I will call fire-fighters. I will cook jalebi tomorrow. Now drink or else..."
In less than a second - glup, glup, glupppppppppppp. I lapped up all the milk and felt cheated when I realised my sister had succeeded yet again in convincing Mom that milk can be fatal for girls of her age.
Probably mik is good after all.



I sometimes face a dilemma. You meet someone, get close, live life like you never did and enjoy every moment of it. Then you fight, argue and go your own ways. You cause him/her pain and receive pain in return [but the latter doesn't bother you]. Should you wish you'd never met that someone?

Or is it just the way you got to live this weird thing called life?