Missing Moments!

Reminiscing, I am… of the road I’ve traveled to get here. Early in the journey, a fuzzy haze clouds further thoughts of my young self, only partial streaks flashing past, those which let me enjoy the most special of moments again. Here is my life as short as possible (even then reaching 1000 words).

Born in Chennai June 11th, 1990 as an innocent, humble being.
I do remember my first birthday in Dallas, my dad held me on his shoulders, the cutest smile ever humanly possible, on mine.
A year later I’m in Paris, more memories: a kitchen set, a room of my own with blue spreads on my bed, a diamond ring in my pocket by chance but (un)-fortunately found and returned. I lived a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower, and was always found playing in its vast, verdant gardens, stealing a drink from the fountains every time I got the chance. My first medal, won in a running competition; I still have it, its blue ribbon ever lustrous. I remember my obsession with dinosaurs; such magnificent creatures I thought I would meet some day, and a song “Wish that I could go to grandma’s house to see the dinosaur…..,” the tune I will never forget. The trip to ski resort in Geneva, and my grueling yet comical efforts on skis. One of the more fascinating things I saw was that my cousin’s dresser opened into a complete kitchen unit with stoves sinks and such, all enclosed within the closet. I found that totally amazing then. Maybe that’s why I still remember…The veil of mist shrouds more memories. A dance in Belgium (Hawaiian style belly dancing I think); I was about six at the time.

I’m on the flight to Madras, India. I had these weird trepidations of the country back then. I imagined a desert and jungle country with snakes and tigers, something just out of ‘The Jungle Book’, (one of my more favorite movies earlier). I get down on the runway, and felt a gust of hot hair on me, Man I AM in a desert! But the thing is, Chennai wasn’t as hot as it has been these past few years. I had never seen an Auto Rickshaw before; I thought they were tricycles on motors (which they are! apparently). And so went a couple of years at Vidya Mandir. First friends, first fights, first singing classes!! I used to love going to the temple, see the Idols brilliantly decorated, smelling the flowers, feeling the softness of the scared ash between my fingers, and the ladoos!! (that’s one part of me that has completely changed)The temple tank was filled with water back then, now can only be a dream when the rains come.

Back on the flight again, this time to Omaha, Nebraska where I spent my next 3 years. New friends and teachers much more enthusiastic than the ones I met in India.
A new obsession, the violin. I found out I was extremely talented, from third seat to second to first seat in a month, I enjoyed it very much. I was selected for my first public speech in 6th grade on the farewell to intermediate school. I went to 7th grade in Beveridge, a huge school indeed. First crush, then more. I learnt to waltz and even the ‘art’ of fine dining. The school dances were my favorites during that year. I failed in my algebra tests; I excelled in arts & crafts. This was in 2001.

The next year, I moved to Pittsburg, PA., a whole new environment, Chartiers Valley Middle School. Once again, more new friends, more new crushes, and finally a ‘girlfriend’ in my Honors Geometry class…uh…ahem. I loved my teachers there, they understood so much and taught so much; not just the subjects. I spent almost a year there when once again I moved back to my hometown, now called Chennai.

I was deliberately reluctant to come here; I had quite a few apprehensions before I came. A brand new education system, I can never understand (Board Exams indeed!!) and so many among other things.

Chinmaya Vidyalaya, my new institution of knowledge. I first saw our Principal; it’s confirmed: I’m doomed. Well it wasn’t so bad, as I found out later.

Now, my memories have escaped the fog, and are a bit more vivid. I went into my 9 A class. Everyone was staring at me, who the hell is this guy? From the US I think!? What the hell is he doing here!? Expressions I’ve received too many times in my life. Another new student was sitting at the front bench crying; Hell with him! I thought. An exceptionally pretty girl watched me as I walked past; Well, life isn’t going to be that bad!. I found a seat next to a boy who shared almost the same name as mine. I got caught for possession of a calculator in math period. Apparently they found I was too impish for the class, so they shifted me to 9 C. The C section, where I spent the 2 years, making new friends (once again!...one can never have too many friends), competing for a rank that I thought I would never get, Man these Indians are damn smart! Startling myself even, I did excel in my studies and stuff. I made more friends through the competition, my future friends I should say, for they were merely rivals in the game of Board-Exam-Frustration. I had the best of times in the excursions I had gone to, the first to Rajasthan, the next to Sidhabari. I never had felt such joy and the memories are now an indelible part of my existence. I shall not describe them here, for they may take enough space for an entire months worth of articles. Then 11th grade, the best school year so far. Once again, excelling in all subjects, going to an IIT Prep class (the use of which I still can’t figure….apparently guaranteeing a seat at IIT…ha ha indeed!). I started to figure out that there is something more to life than just this, ergo I fell in love…ahem.

Now I’m in 12th, the final year before my step into the unyielding world and I’m sure I’ll be able to add more lovely memoirs to last for a lifetime and a bit more.