When you are called a kid in your late 20's

As harsh as it sounds, but you are growing up. By growing up, I mean slowly proceeding towards old age. With age, comes responsibility. Responsibility of not only yourself, but also of your family, peers and pets (if any).

This weekend while celebrating Saraswati puja at my Mama’s (maternal uncle) place, I realised how much things have changed ever since we grew up. It somehow feels that in those days things were too simple. Being raised at a Bengali family in Kolkata, Saraswati Puja meant a great deal to us. More so because it is my mom’s birthday.

Those days Saraswati Puja meant draping self in sarees and usually flaunting about it. I was deprived from the privilege of visiting my school, like everyone in my locality did; as Saraswati puja was a grand affair in their schools, and me being from a missionary school, would only witness it. Yet my locality friends were kind enough to have me in their company and I tagged along…

 …..

Ah! Those days. Everything seemed so very simple. Every weekend meant either relatives coming to your place or you going to theirs. Whenever there was a family lunch, the kids used to occupy the first batch, followed by the males of the house — fathers, uncles and grandfathers. At length, it used to be the gentle ladies — moms, aunties, and Dida (my granny). Even before we could say that we were hungry, we could hear our elders say, “Are taratari koro. Bachcha gulor khide peyeche”, or “Akhono aadh ghonta deri, totokhon ki bachchara na kheye boshe thakbe?” (Please hurry up. The kids are hungry. What! Another half an hour? Do you think the poor kids are going to stay hungry till then?)

Daily Inspired Musings

Arriving in my late twenties, I still seem to be confused with life, or maybe haven’t deciphered the way it is. Even today, I long to be called a ‘Bachcha’. But, that doesn’t happen anymore… ‘Gairika’, ‘Mitra’ and sometimes ‘Ma’am’ are replacements. But none of them are too convincing…

Yet something surprising happened last weekend when I visited my mama’s place. I was still skeptical if I could make it to the first batch with the kids. Accompanying my skepticism, I began leafing through a random book at a distance. Suddenly, I overheard someone say, “Hey! Where is the other Bachcha?” Everyone exchanged glances, and nobody was sure whom he was referring to. When he discovered me, he said joyfully, “Ah! There she is. Our Bachcha…”

Astonished, surprised, flabbergasted? I don’t really know which adjective can portray the seriousness of this situation…

Gaining courage, I moved up to him and said, “Hey ddo yyou mmean mmme?”

Confidently he replied, “Yes! Where were you this long? Don’t you know the kids are supposed to sit in the first half?”

Well yes! I could’nt reply to him for obvious reasons. But, I valiantly chose to share it with you all instead! :)