A journey of unbuttoned knickers and torn shirts

When driven back in those memories, there were no egos, there were no night outs, there were no tensions and there were definitely no running and waning outs behind life. But there were egos because I had fewer pencils than my best friend, there were tensions because I never knew how to explain my social studies marks to my mom and there was tiresome running because of hard hitting dodge ball. There were sweet kisses on cheeks which were not coincidental, then there were half eaten carriers and scolding moms along with brain eating dads. In my case its 6 days of grandma and grandpa along with 1 day of mom and dad. There were power cuts, blood rush jumps from buildings to buildings when spider man exists only in comic books and cartoons. There was also Chitrahar and Chitralahari along with Ramayana, chandrakantha , Mahabharata, and Disney hour with Ducktales and Talespin.

There was a time where dancing with a girl means love – a mere misnomer from famous tollywood movies, ofcourse it wasn’t tollywood too at that time. There were puppy shames whenever I used to forget zipping my knickers and a blush despite you are a boy. There was this Sunday bathing ritual with dad and mom running behind me to get the process started. There were summer holidays where I don’t have to worry about getting tanned or sun burnt. All I can think of was loads of cricket and badminton with pretentious acts of mischievousness. There were night outs on new years eve to beat the best rangoli in the street and saving the pocket money to buy cosco balls for weekend cricket. There were broken glass windows, woken maniacs (all elders in street) and preaching neighbors. The best screwed up punch line was “Please study Tanuj. You have plenty of time to play.” Oh please who can get me back my childhood. I will pour in all my savings along with my shares I bought. Please get me back my childhood and same feeling where two rupees was a treasure. Despite consistent outburst of worsening marks, even the worst injuries along with empty homework books used to make my day. I was proud to be called an adamant kid but I never looked back and regret. I broke the flower pots in school, destroyed the garden and even fought with my friends and tore their shirts. But never a dull moment or a moment of hypocrisy. I can still feel the same, but with an added tension of growing old.

There was an old telugu song in which ANR sings to a crying baby which gist to why do you wanna grow up so soon. The life beyond this sucks. Yes practically it sucks. But at the same time the enjoyment is taken care at every step. So everyone’s life was a summer of 69. It goes like “But when I look back now, summer seems to last forever and if I had the choice, Yeah I always wanna be there. Those were the best days of my life.”