I was going through my personal diary the other day. Written when I was class 8 or 9, that is around 8 or 9 years ago. Most parts of it were very childish. There were so many ‘crying for no reason’ episodes. Of course the reason was very big thing for me at that time. But right now, they seem stupid. It makes me realize nothing actually lasts long. At the long run, nothing really matters.
Also, that if someone would picture me from those pages I wrote, I would probably seem a sad, lonely, sulking, depressed person. That is because I forgot to write the good things that happened. Yes! I am really embarrassed to tell you this. It’s only the fights and the quarrels. With my brother mostly and some with friends, my mother and some random strangers even. I have mentioned every details on how bad I have felt. The insecurities, the fears, the parts where I feel severely depressed and disheartened. Failures. And the cursing part is the worst. I mean that was a part of me, for sure. But that’s not the whole story. There were happy moments. There was laughter, immense of it till the stage my stomach hurt. There were tears of joy. Their were some achievements. There were times when I felt I couldn’t handle anymore of goodness. Why wouldn’t I write about it?

You might say this is stupid. I sat down thereafter. I burned my brains to remember all the good times. And I added a few pages in. That laughter. The joy. The happiness. I think it deserved that much. I also tried to write them in a naive way, which included some intentional grammatical errors and use of simpler, shorter sentences. And finally I addressed it to some random date of that time.