I remember the first time I applied kajal, I smudged my face so badly that I resembled a raccoon. I remember trying desperately to scrub it off, the concept of a make-up remover being alien to me back then. I remember red, sore eyes for hours afterward.
I remember going to buy chips with my brother, and dropping a packet on the road. The awe in my eyes at his courage (stupidity) in making his way through the (albeit light) traffic to pick it up again. He was the wisest, the bravest man ever, back then.
I remember believing adults at face value. Believing them to be stronger, wiser, better.
I remember the first time I (vaguely) understood death, and life.
I remember my first concert, my first Enid Blyton, I remember having fixed ideas of the normal and the abnormal. Having role models because they did one good thing. Seeing the world in black and white and technicolor, but not gray.
Definitely not gray.
~Sam
I remember going to buy chips with my brother, and dropping a packet on the road. The awe in my eyes at his courage (stupidity) in making his way through the (albeit light) traffic to pick it up again. He was the wisest, the bravest man ever, back then.
I remember believing adults at face value. Believing them to be stronger, wiser, better.
I remember the first time I (vaguely) understood death, and life.
I remember my first concert, my first Enid Blyton, I remember having fixed ideas of the normal and the abnormal. Having role models because they did one good thing. Seeing the world in black and white and technicolor, but not gray.
Definitely not gray.
~Sam
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