Being a teenager wasn’t easy for
me at all. As I battled noticing and accepting changes taking place all over my body, to squeezing dozens of zits all over my once-so-fair-and-lovely face,
another misfortune happened to me: peer-pressure. I started reckoning that a
new garment just wouldn’t do; it also had to be uber-stylish and trendy, and
branded. Suddenly, travelling in a cycle rickshaw became the uncoolest thing to
do. And it became more important than ever to own a mobile phone. Not having a
mobile phone was equivalent to not existing in the world. Then again, an
average black and white phone wasn’t cool enough for a youthful teen; it had to
have a camera, music player and Bluetooth, at least. After getting my tenth
board results, I badly wanted a mobile phone, and when I say badly, I mean
badly. I forcefully got one after a lot of rona-dhona
and suddenly I became the coolest stud in town. Well, not quite so.
Today I realize how wrong I was
to demand a phone so forcefully from my mother. How stupid I was to have spent
so much time and money in calling and texting people who didn’t even matter
much to me. How big an idiot I was to end up feeling so dejected after seeing
no message or phone call in my phone for days, and realizing that I was
really not that busy or important as I thought I was. Things seemed to have
changed so much now and it is great to be finally comfortable in my own skin.
