Showing posts from March, 2022

Devoid of Words

Children always have a lot to say. So did I. And it is because they feel like whatever is new and exciting for them is also new and exciting for everyone else. I feel like adulthood sets in for a person the moment he realizes that most things he wants to say have already been said, most ideas already discovered and most conversations already had. My uncle used to describe this moment as the death of the child within oneself - when you stop enjoying cartoons and an irreversible cynicism sets in. For me, the cynicism and the realization that I have nothing new to contribute set in pretty early on. When I moved to college, I had had years of knowing that the more I talked, the less seriously people took me - so I became quieter. The quieter I became, the more cynical I got. And very soon, I was known as a jerk by almost everyone who wasn't close enough to me to realize who I really was. Before that, I remember always having stories in my mind, and even poems. I often wrote them and pe