Growing Up

  

Somewhere high above Innsbruck, Austria, 2017

  I remember my mother often telling me, 'Enjoy your childhood; it won't come back.' I also remember thinking of it as preachy every time she said this.

  I spent most of my teenage years trying to be older. It was paradoxical, really; this yearning to be able to reap the benefits of being older while being absolutely terrified of growing old. The seventeenth and, most of the, eighteenth years of my life were spent in a perpetual fear of not having enough time. Thankfully, I no longer have this fear gnawing my insides, but the truth is: time is passing.

  As I was making my way back home, after having spent an hour of my life with a cup of coffee and one of the Harry Potter books, I tried pinpointing the exact moment or instance when I grew up.

Was is it failing, falling in love, having my heart broken, coming to Austria alone or a death in my family? 

  I don't know. What I do know is that I have not been unable to walk because I was laughing so damn hard in such a long time. This used to be a guaranteed occurrence every time I had a (frozen) mango Tropicana in school. I have spent countless lunch breaks on the staircases of Jamnabai, because my body seemed to be overwhelmed by all the laughing. 

  The notion that I may never laugh that hard again for no reason breaks my heart. I guess, growing up really is a tragedy ... an inevitable one at that.