I have been writing letters all the journey along. I have shredded most of them and then, put them into dustbins and some I have kept as a reference for the final draft. I do hope this is it. Otherwise my already non-existent mane of hair will be in shreds.
I am sixteen and eleven months old. As a typical teenager, I have a box of complaints for you. It outweighs the box of chocolates which is supposed to be a reward. I cannot gather which one to present you first. I have a list of wishes like a small child. I am ready to break my growing wisdom-tooth and keep it under my pillow, if only there was a tooth fairy! I am still a child, aren’t I?
I haven’t even covered half of the journey yet. There is no shortcut to growing up – even if there is I don’t wanna know it. Though sometimes I do wish, I’d go to sleep and wake up just to find that some massive thingy which is equivalent to a tempest is over. Truly, however, I do not want to take short cuts. Period! I want to see it all. I want to laugh – you know, that booming laughter, a fancy, a pleasure and nobody questions its ring of truth, not even me. For a short moment – a minuscule while, I wouldn’t mind crying. Tears are only human and I am a mere mortal.
Don’t ask me to compromise. Not that I will not. I will give up anything to please you. However, I shall not be pleased. I am not a selfless person. I am selfish and I admit that it will remain that all along. Merely mortal! I like to have an upper hand and a say in all matters. Don’t treat me like a pretty doll with no mind and just a twenty-four inch waist line to flaunt. If you tell me I am an important person for you. I want it proven, marked, checked and verified on your ‘priorities list.’
I am a human and more importantly, a girl. Do not expect no jealousy or insecurity on my part. I would like to be flattered a little – appeased a lot. One day, I’d like to fall in love and want that love to be returned. Yes, I am shallow and I am naïve. But aren’t little girls supposed to be just that?
I want to travel and see the world – not just the Eiffel tower but also the little bistros. I want to watch the sun going down in Kanyakumari and the canals of Venice. I want the trinklets of Himachal and the chocolates in Switzerland. I would like to visit a private island someday and spend unimaginable amount of money on shoes, bags and dresses.
I want it now and not when I am old enough to be a granny. I’d like to see it myself and flaunt it, brag it! Do you care enough to tell me if the dreams I weave are going to shatter – the beads falling one by one and rolling away.
I want to know all about you. I expect so much from you, L! What do you think of me? I’d love to know you – more than a pen friend and much more than a stranger. You’re me but I’m not you. Tell me, how?
An Impatient Girl, forever!
A/N – Sometimes, your journal gives you stuff which you never thought you could right. This is one of it. It’s a rambling – and an effort to return to writing.