MY HAVEN!
It was the day before the most important exam of my life. I was trying to focus on the words printed in the textbook before me. But those pesky kids were being so loud! ‘They’ve blissfully turned our quadrangle and the space around into their haven of silly games,’ I thought to myself. When I finally reached my boiling point as I heard a kid scream on top of his lungs “aatli baatli footli,” I flung my book across the room, put on whatever chappals I found lying around. I rushed downstairs to give those little devils many pieces of my mind. Yet when I reached the bottom step I froze. “What do y’all think this is? Your father’s property? Your own personal playground?” This is what I should have said, right? But no. “Can I play with y’all?,” is what I said, instead. For you see I had recently stumbled upon a post on The Gram that said “no one remembers when they did something for the last time ever!”
That hit me like a brick. It never occurred to me before, that, there was a day marked as the last day this very quadrangle was MY haven of silly games. It got me thinking about a much simpler time in my life. Ironic that all I wanted to do then was grow to be the age I am now. Yet, now I stood before a bunch of kids half my age, asking if I could join them for a game of ‘chor-police’ Ofcourse they said yes, their faces gleaming with joy no less! For them, it was having an older, cooler kid to play with. For me, it was a treasure trove of memories. I taught them games I played with my crazy gang and they showed me a bunch of new ones. They asked me millions of questions– questions their moms said they’d answer when they were older. I heard them rant about how hard fourth grade maths was and laughed, but not aloud. (Fourth grade maths is still tough for my twelfth grade mathematically challenged brain.) It was arguably the most fun I’ve had in a long time. One thing dawned on me that evening, though. The younger versions of ourselves, may be smaller in size. But we were bigger and better than we are now. Little Nakita wasn’t afraid of being too loud. She was confident and gave not a damn about taunts coming from grumpy aunties. She was an excellent negotiator, “Mama, five more minutes only, then I’ll come up and eat everything on my plate, promise!” And those five more minutes were the best and the longest. Also worth the scolding she got when she finally did decide to go home. She was carefree and proudly wore mismatched ugly clothes. “Purple and green is the trend now anyway” she’d say to herself and run down for yet another spooky game of ‘ghost in the graveyard.’
Finally, late in the evening. I decided it was time for me to go home before my mom yelled from the window. They all waved goodbye and yelled “come again, tomorrow!” I sighed as I walked upstairs, knowing that was never going to happen. I was greeted by my fuming mother. (Who is half my size now, by the way, but has doubled in fury.) “You crazy girl! What do you think you’re doing, playing with little kids! You should send them to write your Economics paper tomorrow, they might know more!” I chuckled and walked past her, leaving a flabbergasted, exasperated, tired- of -my- nonsense mother behind. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I wasn’t worried that I knew not a single Economics concept. It was the thought that as we get older, we are riddled with problems we don’t understand. Everything and anything, every place that held even a shred of meaning, all slowly lose significance. It loses life and purpose!
My haven of silly games- the quadrangle-was now just a place I passed by, as I left the building.
Glossary
Quadrangle: play area in a building
Ghost in the graveyard- chor police- aatli baatli footli- names of child hood games.
Pic credit- Natasha Sequeira
