On being Fifteen

Published March 2, 2012 by sidmary

I was fifteen yesterday. That means a whole fifteen years of my life are now a history. If I live the average life of sixty years, that is one fourth of my life but memories; and these memories overwhelm me. When I think about them, I try to evaluate how these years passed:

I sought the meanings of love, life, friendship and family. I tried to define them, and redefine them. Eventually I realized that these words are beyond all meanings. They gain a new definition each passing day, and each person had best experience them on his own. This process of evolution is not meant to be guided.

There were additions in my family and subtractions. Both my paternal grandparents passed away, and I often still find myself thinking how different life could have been were they alive. Then came in the world my three younger siblings, much more noise and chaos. I can’t thank these years enough for them.

I entered school and came so far. I still remember that cake I took to school on my birthday when in pre-nursery. Everyone got one slice but the “birthday girl” got two! That was so important to me! The childhood feelings and small pleasures…

Till grade two I had that thing for going home, sleeping, and waking the next day for school. I was famous for it! Yet no one believed me when I presented that as an excuse for incomplete homework. Only I can know how frustrating that was, but those days passed too. Each day was silly, but each of those days is a treasure worth keeping for me now.

It all seems to have gone down in a blur, and yet when I re-think it specifically, each memory comes back in distinct images. The weddings and the dressings, the schools and the vacations, the books and the “facebooks,” the friends and the family, the thoughts and the ideas, the love and the friendship, the depression and the happiness, the meetings and the funerals…it becomes hard to evaluate how much has happened. Each word listed brings with it a wave of nostalgia as well as a wave of emotions. In the end, the only feeling is: Fifteen years GONE!

Everyone I expressed that too called me crazy. Fifteen is supposed to be the beginning of the prime of life. But it seems a fickle existence sometimes, and I want to make it something better. I want to leave a mark. So today, I will begin to plan the next fifteen years of my life, with the hope  and the resolve that they are about development and progress, aims and ambition, love and life. Then maybe on  my thirtieth I will look back at the fifteen years…and maybe just maybe, I will have more to say…

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4 comments on “On being Fifteen

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