I always thought being seventeen was synonymous to being old. I remember often remarking to my nana that, “Shit, I’m seventeen, when did this happen?! Why am I so old.”
And now that’s gone too.

I felt a bit more mature (Just a tiny bit, because come on it’s me.) And there were some stuff that happened that I couldn’t fully ignore or understand.

First of all, I lost my nana. Writing this down hurts, because I’ve never tried to express what it felt… feels to me. But mostly I know I feel guilty. I feel like it’s my fault. And I’d do anything to go back in time to those moments when I was with her. I’d change every word I said, every single time I got angry – I’d change my reaction, my tiredness, my frustration. So the story went like – She was partially bed ridden for two years, because of which I was curtailed of all my fun shizz. I hardly stepped out of my house, except for college and had to get back on time. Sometimes I didn’t mind, I’m not an overly social person. But when I had to spend vacations cooped up at home.. it got tiring.
But this is not about me. I think I was selfish. Of course I was. I was selfish because I thought I had more time. I thought a moment like that wouldn’t occur.

I remember just a few days before my nana taking to the fatal illness, I got really mad at here.I even broke a glass in my anger. I was just so tired. She was being difficult. She wouldn’t sleep at night. Wouldn’t let me do my work. Moan for hours together. Even though all this is true, today it just feels like an excuse I hide behind. It’s true. If I could control my temper, I’d change it all. But like all the cliches, I am only human, too.

Since her passing, days have been different. Living in an empty house. Acquiring unlimited freedom. Circumstances come with both ups and downs.

I’ve been sadder this year, too. I don’t know why – it’s just been hanging around my air. I’ve been bitched about by the boy I once liked and I’ve fallen in ‘awesome’ with some other stud. I’ve made new friends – new friend. She’s became so much in so little a time, and I don’t think these tiny words right now will explain anything. I’ve learnt to laugh when I don’t want to. When no one knows how heart broken I am. And I have learnt to cry to let it all out.

I have spoken to loads of people this year – which has been brilliant. I was always a coward when it came to people who I found intimidating. But it has been a fun, um, exercise? lol. I guess sometimes you just have to say what’s on your mind, without a filter. It’s okay to care,in a delicate proportion. In those moments when you don’t even realize you care. (But ha, I’m gonna contradict myself down below.) And I’ve come to believe that friendship is really important – because that’s some kind of love you won’t get anywhere else. And I know I have to be there for my mommy always, because she’s been right here for me, through dramas and awol fathers and dying hopes. Also socio is a good subject or at least this year’s course has been. And English sucked. So I guess life does turn ironical and makes you hate the things you once loved.

This year has not seen much of good writing though. My words hit an all time low and even though inspiration is spinning round me in plenty, its sheer laziness that’s gotten the better of me. I thought I’d have my new book ready for my birthday, but I’ve not really brought myself to actually visualize the scenes – a thing that used to occupy me completely. But well, with the slagging I still did get to meet Kanan Gill, hottie in the clothes of a comedian. AND Mark Gatiss LIKEWHATEVENWASSEVETEEN. I went for Comic Con, something I thought would be a part of my life only 5-6 years down the lane BUTOHHELL. And also, the entire ‘being more social’ – ‘chal life karte hai’ – let’s do life thing also hit me, which I guess I’m thankful for.

I don’t know much about how harmful my alcohol consumption has been, but I definitely don’t know how to pronounce smirnoff. Uff, names. A tiny part of me that always wanted to fit in into the ‘cool crowd’ has also calmed down relatively and I take that as progress. Also, where’s my nutella? *momentarily gets distracted*

My mantra was Always, try. And to a tiny extent, it still is. But now I also know I can stop giving fucks and be alright. Sometimes its okay to just let every single freaking thing be a background noise. It’s good to get lost. It’s good to not pay attention. It’s lovely to wander. And it’s brilliant not to care.

Seventeen has been a rollercoaster that only went up. And even though with my adorkable friends, I say I’m ready to embrace death, because that is the only destination – I know with all my life that I need this eighteenth year.

It’s the year I have been waiting for.

And here it comes.

Next time you’ll be dealing with an adult, Vee.


2 thoughts on “Seventeen.

  1. “It’s good to get lost. It’s good to not pay attention. It’s lovely to wander. And it’s brilliant not to care.” Thanks. Seriously. I needed to hear that. I guess teenage life is tough wherever you live.

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