When I was a kid things were pretty simple. I had limited needs. Even a single rupee made me happy. I would love to get wet in the rain. Ride my bicycle to places I wanted to. Clothes mom bought were cool. I would play Mario without worrying about competition. I would read Tinkle comics relishing watermelon prepared by my mom. I didn’t need money. I needed love and I got it from my family. I would laugh at myself; I would cry in front of everybody. I loved the color pink along with black, yellow, red, and purple. I would pray sincerely and truly love GOD. I didn’t have girlfriends, but girls as best friends. I would love to race with my friends and laugh when I lost it. Cricket was good as I would get a second chance to bat. I would draw and color. I always felt life is beautiful.
Now I’m an adult. I worry about money. I worry about getting wet in the rain thinking people would judge me. Also, I might catch a cold. I’m always in dire need of money. I need branded clothes. I criticize even the advanced video games. I run to win the race. I look at girls beyond looking at them just as friends. Cricket now is a game I only watch. Pink is supposed to be gay. My prayers are selfish. I can’t cry in front of anyone. I hate to watch myself lose. I can’t laugh at myself. I feel life is mean.
So, is growing up really worth it?
