Shifting Times, Shifting Me

Today is an important day for me, it is the day when I can freely, guiltlessly select ‘yes’ in the countless forms that ask me “Are you above 18?’. I am actually extremely exhausted and tired, while also simultaneously excited for my birthday. My birthday led me to a crisis where I spent my time wondering how quickly 18 years had passed, and how I had nothing, no place where I had shown myself and made a worthwhile impact. Now of course, me being who I am, a thousand of these existential crises occur every day, I can become quite the public hazard.

Added to that, we are moving houses here and so, the whole day was spent in moving, packing, walking, basically every action that surrounds the act of packing and moving. Packing is a difficult job, but today, I struggled especially because of this one special crisis, or maybe I shouldn’t even call it a crisis. I was reminded of the many other times when we packed and moved, it means a complete upheaval of life as we knew it till that point. When you are already thinking about your impending ‘adult’hood, a reminder that everything was going to change, especially in the form of packing and moving houses, was not something I was very keen on welcoming.

But you see, things that we are afraid of and keep at a distance are exactly the things that seem to come back and bite our derrieres later. There was a point of time, in fact, just a few days back, when I was jumping with joy at the prospect of finally becoming 18. I am one of the youngest in my batch, the child, so to speak and I spent a lot of my time last year explaining to people that I did not skip a year in school. No, I might look that bright and smart, but I did not skip a year. I would be 19 when I graduate, just turning 20 maybe. People are shocked sometimes, they are already 19, they tell me. Then they pat my head and say, ‘how cute’, hmph. But I think secretly I enjoyed those little moments when I could be a kid, the one that needed protection and head pats. Seriously, head pats, they are so underrated and need to be brought to the mainstream ASAP.

I have slept intermittently while writing this post. Being back home has made it quite a struggle to write every day. My parents don’t understand why I have to do this. Honestly, I have stopped explaining it to anyone at all, why writing these posts matter to me. It has always been difficult for me to have a consistent enterprise, I always used to lose hope and motivation. I do not want this blog to be a failed exercise, and I will continue trying my best to make sure it isn’t. Yes, there are times, like today, when it gets extremely difficult, but I think that’s when I have to woman up, take charge and be the adult that I know I can be, regardless of whether my age agrees or not. After all, if there’s anything I can take from myself, age is just a number. My turning 18 today is not a sudden change, the world doesn’t suddenly look different to me. It is, for all facts and purposes, just a number on paper. I am not going to drastically change because of this, and that is not a bad thing at all.

I guess, it is fitting that today is the best day for me to post this book–Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. It was a book that changed me the time I read it. A heartbreaking, heartwarming story, I came of age reading it. Today, as I celebrate my 18th birthday, I present to you, Little Women.

It was a rainy, Chennai day when
Huddling in a blanket, I travelled to the
House where little women found their home
I missed father, I hugged mother
Peeked at the large mansion right opposite
I ate Jo’s burnt toast for breakfast,
Sneaked up on her kissing Laurie
Cheering in my head, only to relish that
Painful heartbreak when she rejected him
Cried for the people I lost, you ‘beth’cha
Tasted those pickled limes, dripping down
In the wasted droplets of salty tears
Little women, I became one of them
Attaining maturity

Looking back on these 18 years, there are so many things that I wish I could have done. So many skills that I wish I could have learnt and picked up on. But then, I also realise that a regret-less life is near impossible to achieve, there’s always going to be at least that one thing that we wish we could have done. Just like my houses, my identities and ideas will keep shifting too. There’s never going to be that one stable ground that will be stable throughout. But that’s okay, I can make my peace with that, I can learn to handle the situation as it arises. After all, I did not spend 18 years on earth to stay without a fight. A fight I shall give, and I shall make it a good one. Who said you cannot wrestle in the shifting sands?

And that’s my memory for the day.

Presents Remembered on the Present Day

I was talking to a friend today when I started talking about crowns and tiaras. It was a completely random conversation, I had asked for a medal, I got a crown emoticon and then I went off-track as I usually do. But the conversation on tiaras immediately threw me into a memory of one of my birthdays, I reckon it was my 6th or 7th birthday. I do not remember exact details of that birthday, it was too long back and my memory is not very exact many a time. But what I do definitely remember were some beautiful details and the feeling of happiness that the whole episode left me with.

My birthday falls in the summer break, it always has. This meant that I never got to celebrate my birthdays with friends in school. Rather, I almost always, quite exclusively, spent it in my grandparents’ house with my parents and my cousins. This was not something I complained about, though, because quite honestly I loved all of them. But there were times when I wished I had my friends with me, there was a time when I really loved receiving gifts. I have had times when there were friends who celebrated their birthdays in school, had an after-school party and received so many presents that I was left feeling extremely jealous. I think after a few years of that, I grew to resent gifts, I started thinking of them as burdens, obligations, in fact, that I somehow had to repay. It really helped me deal with the fact that I actually did not get any gifts from anyone for my birthday or for anything.

But yes, coming back to my point. I was at my grandparents’ house, my parents were going to arrive a day before my birthday. Yes, I stayed alone with my grandparents during the summer, at least until the time my brother was born. Then, we both stayed alone with our grandparents, without parental presence. It meant we both got away with a lot of things, but I don’t want to focus on that right now. I had wanted a gown for my birthday. It was the time of Winx Club and Disney Princesses (I don’t think I am still over them, but shhh don’t tell anyone else that), and I wanted in on that world. I wanted a beautiful gown, with its own headpiece, a veil of sorts, and a crown. It was quite an elaborate wish and I even drew multiple drawings to show my grandmother what I wanted.

The wonderful lady, she stitched me a white gown and a white headpiece, she made it completely by herself. It was her gift to me, and young me was still in awe and gratitude whenever she received any gift. I remember how excited I was for my birthday to come along (a bit like I am right now, to be honest) because that meant I could finally wear the gown. My parents arrived, they had bought me a plastic tiara and also a pretty wand to go along with it. The best part was that they both would light up–I could wave my wand and it would glitter and light up the way. They were so beautiful that my excitement for my birthday only increased.

The day of my birthday finally came, but the cake was to be cut only in the evening. So my entire day was spent in simply talking and answering calls from multiple relatives who kept on wishing me a happy birthday. Well, I was honoured and flattered, I loved being the centre of attention (I have always been attention seeking), but I wanted to, nay, needed to wear my gown and the tiara and everything. The evening could not come soon enough, I definitely needed to wear my dress and twirl around and show off to my cousins, there was so much to be accomplished wearing that one dress.

And I did accomplish the, I wore it and everyone had a nice compliment to say about my dress. I was having fun, getting that gift truly made me happy. I think till date, I still harbour that secret pleasure in receiving gifts even though outside me is as cynical and kill-joy as can be about it. I think it became a challenge for friends to gift me anything at all because I did not act like the typical happy child. So even those stopped, so the only gifts I got, at all, were ones from my family and that too it was such a small, meagre amount that I never really found the joy of getting a gift from other people.

Oh wait, I almost forgot to do the book cover challenge. So for today, my book is The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. It is quite a wonderful book, about a young girl with whom I could relate to on a spirtual level.

Who would have thought that a little girl
Born and brought up in India
Would move to England, make friends
Find love, find peace, and find happiness
It seemed too good to be true,
Sparrows and flowers, better health
A tragedy of the past, hidden
Wild and young, dreams and crutches
Attention seeking and careful tending
I’m still waiting to find all that Mary found
For it all to come true, to find
The Secret Garden of my life
Fragrant ‘novel’ties

There are so many things in my life that I should be extremely pleased with and grateful for. I had a happy, pampered childhood that left me content and also well-positioned to take care of myself. I have spent many years of my life, completely taking for granted the love and support of my family, the safety and security they had always provided me. I got a gift for my birthday from a friend of mine, and it honestly was one of the best things for me. It took me back to the number of times young, disappointed me had consoled herself for not getting gifts by choosing instead to direct the anger as hate towards presents in general. Presents and gifts are beautiful, I have always cherished them and I reckon I shall continue to do so. After all, there is no time like the ‘present’, right?

And that’s my memory for the day.

Happy Birthday, Parties, and Unfulfilled Wishes

One of the worst things about being born in May, here, is that you do not get to celebrate your birthday in school or college, because they would have closed for the summer break. I was a kid who spent all her school life watching most of the people around her celebrate their birthdays in class, and then also have birthday parties in the evening where their friends would also be invited and they would all have a swell time. My birthday, coming on May 19th, meant that it was nearly three weeks into the summer break, and every one of my friends had gone on some kind of vacation tour. What is worse, I would also be back in my grandmother’s place, quite far away from home and so I never got surprise birthday parties, no friends jumping out to wish me ‘happy birthday’, no midnight calls and wishes, nothing.

In retrospect, this seems extremely whiny and like a spoiled brat rant. To be honest, I am/was a spoilt brat. My privilege has given me such a secure position in life that I can afford to spend my time, writing this blog, whining about how I did not get special birthday things. But then, I must also take into account how I have spent each of my birthdays in a different place, my parents have given me a multitude of experiences. And I am eternally grateful for everything I have been given. But, I still wonder and wish if I would ever get the birthday I idealise and idolise in my head.

I remember how birthdays used to be celebrated in school. The kid used to come to school in colour dress (ie. no uniform), and bring a box of chocolates with them for distribution. The colour dress part of birthdays was banned after I went to sixth standard, but then it never impacted me in the first place so I was generally not fussy about it. But I know that a lot of the others were, but what can a bunch of 10-11-year-olds do to a school rule? To be honest, nothing much, especially if the seniors did not give the slightest damn whatsoever.

I remember how, as a little kid, I really wanted the chance to celebrate my birthday in school. It was so bad that after my brother was born, I wore a colour dress to school when I was in 4th standard and he turned 2. I wore a colour dress, took chocolates to school because it was my brother’s birthday. I was that desperate to celebrate my birthday. I even remember the dress I wore, it was a skirt and top, came with a hat but I did not wear the hat to school. It was olive green, and brownish golden (like hay, almost), and gave very English farmer vibes. It was a very cool dress, one of my favourites. I wonder why I stopped wearing skirts later though. I did like skirts a lot.

Skirts were nice, they flowed. But as I grew older, and put on weight, skirts, especially ones we were finding in stores next to the house did not have my sizes for the length I was asking. And even if they did, they had very bad elastic waists that hurt and left painful impressions. I soon gave up on skirts and started wearing pants and I realised how much comfort they could provide. Now, I cannot imagine wearing anything other than pants, they are really comfortable and I can move more freely in them. But skirts are more elegant and pretty, I will give them that.

Today is my friend’s birthday and we did a small surprise party for her. It was just cake, and a handmade card where everyone wrote a message. But it was a very nice setup and she really did like it. It made me wonder about how I will never get the opportunity to have the same done for me. No friends who would be at my door, waking me up at 12 to wish me happy birthday, and give me cake and a handwritten card. But then, I think now is not the time for me to ponder about these things and ruin what is a good move. I have promised her, rather ominously, that wherever I see her tomorrow, I will sing the Happy birthday song to her, out loud for everyone to hear. I need to get some sleep in order to make good on my promise. I might not get those surprise birthday parties for myself, but I can still take part in others’ and then, maybe one day, be content with my own too can’t I?

And that’s my memory for the day.