A dull christmas

Christmas has never been so dull. It has always been a grand event for me. Convent schooling for almost 15 years does that to you .in my childhood the excitement of getting up to a bag filled with goodies, thrilled me to no end. Stockings were hanged the night before, Christmas tree was decorated and Santa stood by it; id drift off to sleep as my room glowed in the beautiful lights that dad would help me put up.

School used to be so much fun too. We’d prepare a month in advance and on the day school wrapped up for the winter holidays we would have our winter play. Carol singing, Mary and Joseph and the birth of Christ were so beautifully depicted in the play. We would end the play with Santa coming in with the goodies. It used to be so much fun to sing these carols and munching in the yummy cookies, cakes and tarts and our Sister [Irish nun our principal] would deliver one of her beautiful speeches and we’d all sing joy to the world and school would finally end on a happy note, with promises to meet the next year. Sigh!

No stockings greeted me this morning, no Christmas tree and surely no hint of celebrations, I peeked from beneath my blanket and reminded myself, that indeed it was Christmas the difference was I had in fact grown up. Until last year I had dropped not so subtle hints reminding my folks that the stockings would still be up. But this year I had no heart and surely not the usual excitement. It was a dull Christmas with no joy or merriment, and to top it off I was in a really bitter mood and was sulking throughout. All I did was stay in bed, read my book and occasionally stare aimlessly stare out if the window. It was a dreadful feeling of being lonesome. I had everyone I valued but I felt I was so alone as if I had just lost something important, maybe it was my childlike innocence, but I can’t be too sure. I guess I have grown up and the monotony of life has hit me. Maybe grown ups are not entitled to have the fun and excitement that the children experience.

Childhood memories

A day off during the week [CITU has called a 24 hour nationwide bandth] is really hard to come by. since its a time off from regular monotony of life, i plan to do absolutely nothing, just let my thoughts sprout wings. its been raining all through the night and the morning too doesn't seem any different. a day like this always brings back memories. i had always wanted to grow up and had claimed that i wouldn't really regret it. i don't regret but the rapidity of my evolution really startles me! it is really unbelievable even to myself that i turn 21 in just a few more weeks, [16day :P] when did i grow up so fast? i keep asking myself. i can still see myself playing cricket with my friends on the road, with my long hair somehow knotted, in a tee and shorts. i remember how ma would get angry, thinking of all the children my daughter has to be unruly, there is not a single lady like manner in her. but hey that was me! climbing my walls, smashing window panes, running around and yelling, doing all the things that so called convent educated young ladies are not supposed to do.

i remember how i used to mastermind all great activities, from planning pajama parties to organizing Independence day function, to setting up of our headquarters, everything. it used to be so much fun. i think the poor residents of our lane must have prayed day in and day out hoping we would grow up, so as to have a good afternoon nap. i used to be an avid reader, so on my way home in a metro i would continuously read and even while ma fed me [she still does it :P] to save time. then run down immediately as the clock struck 4. at prompt 6 we would hear our mothers yell for us to get back home. with bruises and mud stains we would head straight to the washroom. even then the milk and biscuits just before study time seemed such a treat!. what i loved the best was, the first rain of the season. we would all huddle up in my terrace in our nightclothes and would have greatest time being soaked to the skin. i had not a care in the world. such wonderful times those were.

then i had my first crush and started noticing my uncouth and unruly nature. i washed and took care of my hair more consciously, skirts replaced shorts and to be looking presentable at all times seemed my very important prerogative. how angry and disgusted i used to feel because i didn't know how to be more ladylike. i remember i had attempted to put kajal for the first time and messed it up big time. for just one look of my crush id wait hours on end on the veranda. times have changed.

Druhin, my first friend on planet earth, [i know him from the time i was 2, we are friends from Montessori] exclaims how ladylike i have become, wearing distinct "girlie" clothes now, he hates me wearing kajal which now i am so adept at applying, and so very hates the fact i no longer resemble the tomboy that i used to be. but times change and so have i, but something that is hard to change is the memories. somehow even now the childhood memories seem so real and life like that i can almost see myself doing the things i once did but with a start i realize that i have moved ahead in time. what i wouldn't do if only for once i could go back in time and relive the moments, that are hard to come by.