#oldtimes

Lately, I’ve been feeling super nostalgic. I found this old hard drive with golden videos that hit me like a time machine. And let me tell you—being a child? Peak life. Zero career stress, no peer pressure, no assignment deadlines. Kya pata tha yaar ki adulthood sirf thodi responsibility aur kaafi struggle ka dusra naam hai? Nobody tells you as a kid that adulthood isn’t just about “freedom”—it’s about figuring out your taxes, crying over Excel sheets, and pretending you’re okay when you’re not. If I had even an inkling back then that growing up meant juggling responsibilities and feeling ‘tired’ as a personality trait, I would’ve sat my 6-year-old self down and said, “Beta, soch le. Bade nahi hona.” Had I known, I would’ve voted to stay smol forever.

We used to live life aaj mein, getting pampered without guilt. No one judged you, society wasn’t on your back, and your existence wasn’t a topic of someone’s tea-time gossip. The biggest question of the day was, “Aaj kiske ghar khelne jaayein?” The fun was real, yaar—no pressure of being cool, looking perfect, or having an “aesthetic” life for Instagram. No one cared what you looked like, what you owned, or if your life was “cool enough” for social media.

And childhood birthday parties? Oh my god, what a vibe. Forget five-star venues and Instagrammable decorations—our parties were elite in the most basic way. Menu? Pastry, chips, burger, and a bottle of Fanta. That’s it. No talk of themes or aesthetics, no stress about cake designs that “align with the mood board.” Cake has to be a whole masterpiece—it’s all about Taylor Swift-themed fondant figures, Pinterest themes, and hashtags like #BirthdayVibes. But back then? Our parents showed up with their favorite cake (not yours), usually topped with some random cartoon—Mickey Mouse, Shinchan, or even a slightly questionable, squished animal. And you know what? No one cared. As long as it was tasty, we were living our best lives. Kids these days are unwrapping iPhones or driving home in Mini Coopers on their birthdays. MINI COOPERS, bhai! Back then, if someone even gave us a Barbie doll or a Hot Wheels car? Peak happiness.

Your four closest friends would show up in their most mismatched outfits (no one cared about ‘fits back then), a birthday cap would crown you as king/queen for the day, and together, you’d create absolute chaos. The photos? Legendary. Unhinged poses with missing teeth and blurry smiles—zero effort, pure joy. And the games! Musical chairs? Top-tier entertainment. You’d push your bestie off a chair and call it strategy. Dance Statue? Standing frozen in the weirdest positions, trying not to giggle. Sounds cliché now? Maybe. But back then? We were LIVING. Today, people might roll their eyes and say, “Boring parties,” but those were real vibes. You didn’t need fancy decorations or iPhones as return gifts to prove your birthday was lit. Happiness didn’t need validation back then.

School wasn’t just a place where you “learned stuff.” It was a comedy show, therapy session, and adventure all rolled into one. Bus rides were mini concerts where window seats were prime property, and someone always screamed songs off-beat because “feel aayi toh aayi.” The classroom? Pure, unfiltered fun. We laughed at jokes that didn’t make sense, whispered gossip like it was breaking news, and passed notes with cringe-level secrets. No one cared about looking cool or being perfect. Competition? Barely existed. Sure, we announced big dreams with full confidence—“Doctor banunga!”, “Engineer toh pakka.” or "I'll be an astronaut!" We said it without knowing that today’s doctors would be prepping with ChatGPT, and engineers would be staring at error messages at 3 AM with tears in their eyes. Because let’s be real, hum bachpan mein chand-sitaro ke piche hi bhagte the. As kids, we wanted to fly, chase the moon and stars, and explore space. Little did we know that to become an astronaut, you gotta deal with Rosenmund reactions in 12th-grade Science and survive the never-ending physics equations—like, who signed up for that? Becoming a rocket scientist, a doctor or even an engineer felt dreamy back then—now, it feels like a marathon of study guides. Cheating? It’s evolved into a science now. Back then, we copied from our best friend’s paper and still had the audacity to fail together. Iconic teamwork. I did not knew that life apne haathon mein hai would literally mean staring at your phone to check your bank account balance or count your daily steps and let an app decide whether if you are healthy or not? Lol, we didn’t!

And reunions? LOL, kya reunion? A few days back, we tried planning one—group chat was buzzing, enthusiasm was sky-high. “Chal bro, ek baar toh milte hain!” The plan started with dates, places, excitement, and… it fizzled out. Why? Because everyone’s busy. Legit, no one’s ever free at the same time. It’s wild how we went from “Bro, aaj tu free hai kya?” to “Let me check my schedule and get back to you.” Life has us running around so much that we’ve forgotten how to pause.

Sometimes I wonder—time kitna jaldi nikal gaya, yaar. One moment, we were kids in messy uniforms, laughing uncontrollably, living life without filters. The next, we’re adults, scrolling through old photos and grainy videos, trying to feel those moments again. I swear, if someone handed me a time machine, I’d run back. Back to that classroom where I sat with my best friend, whispering nonsense and getting scolded. Back to awkward, blurry photos and “shh-ing” each other in the library because everything was suddenly hilarious. Back to those “small rebellions” that felt wild but were actually just innocent fun. Because now? Everything is a memory. Those carefree days are locked in badly shot videos and weird poses, frozen in time. I miss those days. I miss my friends—my ride-or-dies who didn’t care what I wore, or how I looked. I miss the simplicity of childhood when happiness was a pastry, a round of Musical Chairs, or an extra hour of playtime before sunset.

Growing up? Overrated. If I could trade adulting for even one day of childhood, I would do it in a heartbeat. No filters, no judging—just the raw, unfiltered joy of being me.