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einprotagonist · 3 years ago

Text

The start to writing.

So, many people including old friends and family did not know that I write some stuff of my own (even though very rarely). And the question about when and how did I get into this always arises, so here I am (lyrics *this is me, there is nowhere else on earth I’d rather be*) telling this short little story.

Don’t mind the lyrics part which keeps occurring in my mind as I write some phrases. XD

Umm.. I was a young kid who was always philosophical about things happening around me. I was involved in a lot of grown-up’s issues even as a child, kind of the mature kid. Yep, eldest son indeed. This lead to me ending up as a more understanding human being than the average of my age group. I would always be knowing what kind of things are to really worry about and what is trivial issue which is only bothering as long as we are giving a shit to it.

So when my father got transferred to a city in the southern India and we all decided to move there with him, it was not an easy decision for me to leave all my friends and the city I grew up in. There logic I gave to myself was that after 2 years we all will get away from each other any ways as we will move onto college life, so I’m taking a leave just a few days earlier than the rest. This new city was a better developed city and had nice education as well as living standards than my old one. OR SO I THOUGHT.

Well, seeking admission into Intermediate schools, I was late to take admission as the sessions had already begun and I could not do an extensive research on which are the good ones in the given time of 2-3 days. It was not really a smartphone era yet. I joined into the most reputed school chain given it was very close to our apartment plus produced great results every year. It was an english medium school and they only had students who were doing intermediate studies, just the 11th and 12th class kids.

I’d always been a part of co-education system and to my surprise this one was a school where both girls and boys did study but not together. They had entirely different floor. What a troll! It was really funny to observe these boys who had never shared a classroom with girls, they talk all kinds of nasty shit only to be silent af when girls pass by. Hahaha.

Well, so I took admission into the school and they gave me choice of subjects which were all what I wanted but the secondary language was only Hindi/Telugu/Sanskrit/Arabic. I could not apprehend the fact that there is no Computer Science/Application! How could you not have one as a part of your education system in this age? IT IS 2013 FFS! I took Hindi for obvious reasons (I am a North Indian and Hindi is my mother tongue) and carried on. -__-

The biggest lie was that they teach in English Medium. They spoke in their regional language all the time and only the equations written on blackboard was in english. Text book questions were in english and the explanations given in classroom were all in Telugu. I did not understand shit. It was a nightmare, I am a guy who listens what is being taught in the classroom and lesser of someone who reads books on his own. I would sit there watching out the window all day long, slowly the teachers also got to know that I can not speak their language and they could not really help it. They could not speak mine either. A couple of teachers tried and their classes were helpful. So 2/5 classes were what I understood. Each class was approximately 2 hours long so I was a dead ass for 6 hours straight every day! LOL

It wouldn’t require a genius to guess that kids also spoke Telugu only, a few of them knew Hindi and a few knew English but it was really hard to have a conversation. The conversations basically lasted 1-5 minutes depending on how much of entertainment they needed from my situation. :P

Half a year passed away like that and I was doing bad on those three subjects. I often complained to principal but he wouldn’t change the teachers just for one guy, specially when the rest of the class is fine with it. So I just sat there, people came to know about a guy who was called U.P. in whole college. Bruh, I was famous. Teachers also called me U.P. now, since my name is a tough one for most people I meet anyways. I had no issues with a nickname.

Then I met a guy who could speak Hindi-English-Punjabi-Telugu. ALL FLUENT! I was so glad to have a conversation with someone for that long, we shared gaming interests and we both came from same kind of schooling before arriving at this school. It felt like a miracle, I’d never met someone there who could connect to me that way.

But before I met this guy, I was alone. And in these six or seven months of loneliness - I learned to write whatever happened in my diary. It was a great thing to do, it felt like I’m talking to someone/myself. It made my heart lighter, sometimes happier too. I was not always sadistic but yes I was awfully quiet and had none to talk.

This habit of mine didn’t leave me, I carried it on for a long time. From my point of view that 1-1.5 years of writing was long time. My parents also had to leave the city as the transfer failed after 8 months of hard work and he was offered a new position back in the same city we came from. I was living there on my own and it was good experience. I was doing things on my own that people my age do not generally have to do. It was a great time and all of it had to be written down.

My school days finished, I came back to the old city and I got busy with a lot of people and lost my writing habit. I always tried to pick my diary up and write something but I never got back to the consistency I had.

Almost 7 years have passed since then and I am now trying to write my heart out on this blog of mine.

This is how it began and this is why I write. :)

Let’s go! Target is 1 Heart/Note. LOL

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