Pointing their plastic finger at me.
They’re hoping soon my kind will drop and die,
But I’m gonna wave my freak flag high, high.
Wave on, wave on.

As a child – letsay three . My mom,my kindergarten teacher taught me what was supposed to be the first letter of literacy.the first that gave me though. the first that probably was me – it defined me as to what i am today . So on one of those June mornings when mom left me to my first day at school, she left me to care-she left me to the world and she leftt me with the hope to embrace a new person that i would call teacher. She taught me to write an I first .Yes I . Its always easier for a toddler to get with those standing and sleeping lines.Now this I was the milestone of literacy for me at three. I thought that was it. Then as days passed I learned more alphabets . So one of those days , she taught me an A and told me that was supposed to be the first letter of the alphabet series. I, amused – could not accept that an A came before an I . It seemed uncertain and a petty thing to think upon at that time. So I grew up.

At eight – mom taught me. My teachers taught me. The dog in my streetway,that woman on the television all taught me – what is wrong and what is right. I learned,i observed, I came up with theories and what was more important then was I accepted things happening around me.

At thirteen – I had a mind of my mine. I was my teacher.I was my friend.I listened,learned,observed and rebelled.They say a teenager is not half as sane as a five year old. Accepted.

At eighteen-I am made of my own. I have a life.I have a dream . A step taken towards eternity in terms of my oh moment.A step taken back . I do my thing .I burst into random songs and thoughts.even random expressions.Observe characters and some -isms that rule my life. sit in a corner and ponder or just laugh away the concern in some healthy sunshine. People come.people see.people comment.So the biggest achievement that anybody ever made walking past the road and stopping by is making a useless comment on somebody’s achievement because they were not to make it any time in the proximity. I still sympathise with this kind – Another, is that you-know-your-daughter-is-a-so-and-so-and-gone-off-your-hands- ism. Yes.We are more bothered about others sons and daughters and how interesting does her/his life look in a next ten years.So this isnt chugalkhori in better words – its curiosity . How frank is the part when you know your kid isnt an eighth good of the kid living across the lane and that is when the fingers come in picture? Your kid failed in maths. Oh no. Mine scored an A. Your kid is dyslexic mine is not. Yeah seriously .

So, at this point of time its like walking with two deaf ears and a hypothetically blind pair of eyes on the road . the road where people would seldom come and show you ways – the ones that arent right. the ones that are rightly wrong. You walk.stumble.stumble. walk. And years later when you’ve just had it the way you wanted things to be.You think. and you feel lucky like a four leaf clover in a casino bar. Yes, six was six and nine was nine. I had a mind of my own and consequently I have a name of own. Which is just about enough. And Then I wouldnt stop being thankful because if six was nine – it would be the same chances of my aunt being my uncle. Haha !

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