The Seasons in a Late Bloomer’s Life
Throughout most of my childhood, I grew up believing that I'm not a cool kid for this world. My brother and I have an age gap of seven, and I grew up seeing him being a champion in everything he did. especially sports. On every sports day, my brother came home with medals of all three colours his school could afford to make. My parents couldn't get any prouder, and on some days the kid in me used to wonder if I'm ever good at doing things most cool kids do, like singing, long-jumping painting - anything cool. My parents always wanted me to be good at something that others could also enjoy, mostly singing I hated to do it in front of people who comment on what works best for children. I had spent most of my childhood wondering what was wrong with me as a child.
Soon, a parallel universe also started forming in my life during those days, when I felt special. The only acknowledgement I remember receiving was from my language teachers after reading the literature section of my answer sheets. And the only thing I felt I was good at was the way I dreamt mercilessly as characters and their voices that took life on paper and the way I made people feel. I vividly remember my English Teacher from my first school, who asked me if she can put flowers on my hair on an annual day. I remember all those teachers who always saw something in me - all of them, their smiles and warmth that helped me believe that there's something in me to smile about.
The only complaint my parents used to hear about my brother was that his handwriting was hard to read. So my parents arranged a handwriting teacher for him. Writing always seemed joyful to me, and the aesthetics of it made me sit with them on some days his teacher came home, not to learn but to see. That year, I grabbed the first prize in the handwriting competition at my school - literally the first prize I ever got in my life. The following year. I got a prize in a story-writing competition. The next year I got selected for an interschool poetry writing competition. After many years, I was elected as the College Magazine Editor on a day I bunked the class wondering what I am doing in an Engineering college. My team brought out a college magazine for the college after a gap of two years, going through things many who came before us gave up on. I was part of curating the TEDx event that happened at our college, and I did it for a speaker who was not able to hear or speak. I started to earn through art during the final year of my college. I quit my job, and started to write and do art.
There are still days I feel like I'm not cool enough for most of this world. But what I also understood is that I've made peace with it. I've made peace with the fact that I understood that most people are fucked up by themselves and their ideas on how others and children should be, than any other. Over the years. I've also figured the reason I never felt belonged anywhere when I was a child was that nobody ever asked me if I could write a poem. Nobody asked me if I could do something that help people feel than just see. I've very well understood that the only people who advise children to become this and that are messed up Gurus. Over the years. I've understood that I define my cool.
It took me twenty-five years to accept myself the way I am. And with it comes a clear understanding that if a child is determined enough to not believe other people's version of them and risk finding out who they are, there's nobody in this world smart enough who can prove them otherwise. And if they're ready to accept who they are in their journey, it doesn't matter to them who does and doesn't anymore. I've also learnt an important thing along the way to forgive ourselves and others because none of us knew better.
And this is why I love children the most. Also, this is why I want to talk to them in ways that help a few pack courage to be themselves in this terribly confusing world. I want to tell as many children as I can that there's no reason to believe anyone who comes up with narratives telling them who they should be. And I want to tell those little ones who are trying too hard to stand out that it's okay to be ordinary - that many times, it is far better than the extraordinary.
Also, this is why I'm so much in awe of teachers. Do they often think about their power to change how a child look at themselves or the difference they make in a child's life? Not sure! But I'm quite sure that I do, on days when I fall back and start picking myself up. :)
