Soaring over Self – The Childhood Way

There have been moments where I came to realization that I have grown up. These moments come and go eventually, displaying the difference in change of my behavior and my reactions now and earlier.

They often redefine me, my personality and my character traits. Amidst the series of changes of what made me who I am today, I still retain my personal best traits; few that they think never required a change because they were perfect.

Sometimes though I like to go back to my past self and relive my being a child again.

This happened at home when I had visited home. Mom and I had gone for a walk that evening in one of the parks near my house. It was the same park where I would play as a kid.

Running barefoot on grass, playing self-invented games and swaying away on the swings I had fun like any little girl of 10 to 12 years would do. I was a bulky little kid, more like the ones whose cheeks every other aunty would lovingly pull, sadly they never knew how irritating and painful it was at my side.

I would love to get on a swing, though despite my efforts I couldn’t get much higher as my cuteness over-weighed my force against the ground. I was a chubby and a healthier kid considering my weight. So my friends would climb on the swing, keeping their feet across it, struggling to adjust in whatever space I would give them to stand and would push the swing while standing and swaying it.

If you ever heard the phrase ‘ping bdade yar’, you would know what I mean.

The swing would creek and the iron chains would make strange sounds, as if struggling in pain of bearing the unavoidable fate. Despite that it would reach to a certain considerable height after my friend’s tiring attempts to accelerate it to the altitude. I obviously had fun, sitting there, with the air hitting my face and the world going Sswweeeeeeeee……..

Besides the fun I would feed my fears. If you ever tried this I bet you would be able to relate. While going back, i.e. the ‘fro’ part in the ‘to-fro’ motion of swing, I would look up to the sky or the tree and that would make butterflies flutter in my stomach. I would get scared of falling while looking up, so I would close my eyes or look the other way.

Fast forward to that day when I was in the park with mom. That evening while mom did an evening walk around, in the park, I sat on swing, once again.

This time there were no friends to get me to that height and of course the swing that was glad enough to not to make a sound out of reduced weight.

I pushed the ground and in seconds I soared heights, closer to the same tree that was above my head. That moment I tried it again. I looked up when the swing went back, reaching the height. Fear made me shiver and I looked down.

                       No! I have to overcome it! I strained myself into thinking.

I looked up again in the second attempt and the swing took me closer to my fear as I increased the speed. The heights made me shaky but this time I didn’t look down.

I was panting and I continued looking, my eyes wide open towards the sky, towards the bare tree leaves that had waited so long for me to come back and as the air became cool suddenly my fear receded and turned into elation.

Moments passed and I was giggling with myself, looking up at the tree leaves colored dark under the fall of the evening. I was feeling myself conquering my childhood fear and it felt as if I conquered myself instead and in that very moment when I was laughing at the very heights that scared me, I CHANGED.


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