I was strolling among the heavy crowd and the hustle and bustle of New Road with some newly-bought Dashain clothes in my backpack and some random thoughts about the festival on my mind. Suddenly, my thoughts flashed back to a childhood memory when I was handed a new pair of jeans at the very last moment before the Dashain Tika started. Beforehand, there had been some kind of sadness and anger that I had to wear one of my old, discoloured trousers during Dashain. But then, the surprise of receiving a new pair had left me there jumping with happinessWalking among the evening New Road crowd, I started to wonder where all that wonder with the world went with age. Though I was walking with a bunch of new clothes on my back, there was no happiness or joy about the fact. Had I too fallen prey to this change we call maturity?

.........

I was watching a janti procession of a local marriage out of my window. There was a jeep full of children who were really happy—screaming at the top of their heart. Seeing that, again my mind meandered to childhood experiences of momentary rides clinging on the back dusty tractors. To be able to climb onto one of these vehicles, we had to run with agility and pace, jump on with great dexterity and cling on for dear life. If missed, the tractor would disappear. When successful, I remember, a pure sense of thrill and freedom enveloped me—like there was nothing in the world that could have made me happier.

Again, that reverie left me thinking about how “mature” I have become now. Now, I ride long-distance buses that I so dreamed of as a child, yet the hours upon hours of travelling does not come close to matching the sheer joy I experienced during the few seconds of clinging on to bumpy tractors. When did this change take place?

.........

I was thumbing through the TV, switching between channels, searching for something decent to watch. Bored half to death, I finally settled on a random Nepali film being aired by a local station. Again, I was reminded of how these very movies had us absolutely enamoured as children. At the time, we had to hound local stores for DVDs that had good print of the movies. Colleting the rent money by pooling our lunch allowances together, we brought the movies home and were utterly in awe of the stunts that the actors performed on screen. We talked about the movies for weeks on end, we memorised the dialogues, we giggled as we remembered the funny parts. 

Again, I am struck by how my perception of movies have changed withtime. Now, watching the same Nepali movies, even the very serious dialogues seem cheesy and funny. Nowadays, we spend a fortune going to spic-and-span new theatres and watch latest 3D renditions of Marvel and DC super heroes, yet the excitement we once derived from a cheesy Rajesh Hamal movie cannot be matched. Movies used to be so dreamy back in the day, now it is just one more form of escape.

Obviously, change is inevitable and with age comes maturity. As we grow older, different experiences change our perceptions and how we view the world. But must we lose our childlike wonder? A part of me wants to believe that we are all meant to shine as children do. Now when I walk down the memory lane, that happiness, excitement, anger, tears, seem to be the purest thing that I have done till date. There wasn’t any pretending. Nothing was phony. This unfortunately isn’t the case anymore, and we are all walking with assorted masks.

Which is why I implore: Grow and outgrow yourself, but never lose that wonder and surmise you felt as a child. After all, that was the closest to authenticity we have ever been in our lives.

Thapa is a Civil Engineering student at Pulchowk Campus