Old Yellow Pages ✓

12. childhood

15th november, thursday, 2018

dear diary,

a memory:

I have never had many friends in the society complex in which I live. I hung out with my brother's friends until I was 10. They would often gang up against me, whenever my brother and I had a fight, and in my presence they would whisper into each others' ears, forming a plan to escape me, which they would execute whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

Hide and seek was a game they often used for this. I would be the seeker, and instead of hiding somewhere, the four of them ran off together somewhere, usually to the house of one of them to play a video game. I would then be left all alone. 

My first thought usually was to visit their houses one by one to check which one they were sitting in. I did this on some occasions. On others, I would make peace with my loneliness and wander off somewhere to explore. 

Sometimes, I engaged myself in collecting empty plastic cola bottles which people carelessly threw on the pavements. I would set a timer on my watch and challenge myself to gather 10 bottles in 10 minutes. 

On the second floor of the 6th block building, there was an empty flat. I liked to think that a ghost lived there. Having no use of the bottles, I would amuse myself by throwing them into the balcony of that apartment. If it was windy, I half-filled up the bottles with water from the community tap to make them heavy and then hurled them up. Sometimes I missed the target and they crashed into the walls nearby, showering me with their contents. 

I had one constant friend, Bhavni, but she hardly stepped out of her house. She took music classes, studied a lot, went to some Brain-o-Brain summer workshop, and did other things of the sort. I don't like her much. She's haughty and it shows in the way she carries herself. She's miserly too. Like, if I went out for lunch with a friend and they had no money and wanted an ice cream, I would pay for it without thinking twice. Bhavni, on the other hand, would try to convince them to not have an ice-cream (we just had lunch, it's cold outside, blah blah). I don't like her. 

As a child, though, I didn't think much about these things and gladly played with her on the rare occasion when she came downstairs. 

There was a girl group in my society complex. They all went to the same school and their moms were friends. I started playing with them at the age of 11, I guess. But they never shared their secrets with me. I never felt like I was one of them. If they played badminton, I would be appointed as the scorekeeper. They played in turns as teams of two, and I played only when they were all done. I remember a girl, Harshita, who particularly disliked me for no reason and she threw a tantrum whenever I was given more importance than her. Like, if I wanted to play but she didn't want to give up her racket, then her elder sister would tell me that I could play with them tomorrow instead. I always obeyed, not wanting to make a scene. 

Sometimes the girl group and the boy group played together. The boys disliked me, and again, I had no idea why. I had never hurt anyone, and to this day I haven't understood why they treated me that way. So, they would play hide and seek or treasure hunt, and without even being polite about it, they would say that I couldn't play with them. Flustered, I would again wander off to explore. 

There was another girl, Anika, who hated me and who always lied about me to her mother. I would merely push her aside, and she would cry, go home, and tell her mother that I grabbed her hair and threw her to the ground. She must've been the one who spread rumours about me among the boys, but I can't be sure.

I remember I climbed a lot of trees back then. I loved doing that. I often climbed up to a cozy branch with a book between my teeth and sat there to read. Sometimes I hid stuff there, stuff like a shuttlecock or a notebook, knowing that my things would be safe because no one else was flexible or light enough to climb up. 

I have a different perspective now, though. Now I know that most of the people who live here are middle-class and are not very educated. It's a good thing that I didn't interact with them. It left me with time to be with myself. I spent that time at home, reading novels and learning the piano by myself, and I'm proud to know that I am now much better off than they are. 

It doesn't matter that I don't have friends here. School is ending. I'll be going to college soon, to a different country, and these things will be behind me. 

Another thing that I'm proud of is that I haven't let these experiences shape me. To Kill A Mockingbird taught me that "it's not okay to hate anybody," and I know that if these people ever came to me for help, I'll help them out. Being nice to those who weren't so to you requires strength of character, and I am satisfied with who I have become now. 

❄