“It is never a straight line, rather a long road with lots of ups and downs!”
The teen age is the most treasured in one’s life. It is a transition period from not caring to actually minding. The most interesting part of one’s life beams from here. Those that hate it claim to do so because it did not go as they had hoped. Sadly, the latter is strongest for many. For this, one would not mind erasing it in a jiffy. It dictates growth, not because you want but because you must. From your interactions, to the people you lost, they shape you, not only as a person but also as a nuisance. These interactions kill certain parts of you while giving birth to new parts as well. Some individuals are lucky to exit as a whole but for most of us, we develop various personalities in order to cope. I am ‘Pride and Worry.’ Nice to meet you.
High school is probably still every child’s dream. Yes. But to some, it quickly evolves into a nightmare, one that will haunt you, your dreams, self-esteem and probably your life choices too. Those still holding on to their past glories from Primary education hope they get embraced in the same manner come here. Those who had to endure the painful claws of innocent childhood bullying hope that they meet a new environment, a welcoming and loving one. But do they?
Well, as a young man who had always held his family name high academically and personality wise, he was most deserving of the title ‘good child’. His name often sprung up when other guardians would scold their ‘spoilt brats’. He and everyone else who believed in him hoped that he carries on. But, there was also a part of him that only he knew. That part which had endured bullies for ages. That part with trust issues who saw all as predators. The part that he always hid with a smile. Yes, that part was scared and hopeful too. ‘Maybe it gets better’, he would tell it. ‘What if it gets worse’, it would reply.
Starting High School, Pride and Worry both blank pages to formulate their own stories. The only concern was, whose would be better? Pride was him. The one-eyed among the blind. The pride of the family. He was loved because he was a definition of perfection, the one who had his life under control. Always top of the class with a perfect discipline record. Oh yes he was brilliant but also because he was scared. Scared of punishment in case he didn’t make the first position in class. He was scared of portraying a bad image to his siblings. Because of these, Pride embraced hard work. A normal routine one may say.
Worry, on the other hand had been raised to bask in the glory of Pride, his elder brother. He was an emotional cry baby from first crack. He always hid at the slightest of inconveniences. He was susceptible to bullies and always considered people’s opinions as a life compass. Unlike Pride, Worry only had one person looking out for him. Maybe because no one had ever actually met him. Only his brother cared to shield him, to make him feel safe and to love him unconditionally. Worry boasted on his brother’s brilliance and performance. It gave him confidence to make a few friends, who he barely trusted because they would turn on him at the least trigger. It did aid his self-esteem for a while. In the next stage, he simply had hope, mostly because of Pride. He knew that as long as his brother excelled, everything would be okay.
The first year of high school was generally great since Pride managed to get his foot on the fast moving pedal and sequentially, Worry didn’t have that much of a problem too. In the second year, with peak puberty kicking in, Pride had his first taste of poor performance. It took him some time to process it and gather himself together. Talking of first times, Worry inevitably got exposed too. For a depressed brother could no longer provide that shield.
The young man had been tasted more competitive waters and for the first time, Pride had to battle so many brilliant people in one class. Every day was a battle of ‘who beat who last time and who will beat who next time’. Superman had finally found his kryptonite. With his super power neutralized, his hidden part, Worry was exposed. The little respect and admiration he had acquired all evanesced. Once again, he was just a regular boy, that fat boy. This time around, it was survival for the fittest and in no time, the pressures of the teen age kicked in.
‘What should I wear? That girl? How do I look? Oh, midterms already?’ What position are my in class?’ A chain of questions that constantly ran through his mind. Did he have a guide though? No. Soon, he was torn between bettering and ravaging himself but either of these came at a cost. Bettering himself meant not seeing eye to eye with his father. It meant appearing rebellious and spoilt before his parents. On the other hand, just living meant he would purely concentrate on his academics and lose out on the little joys of puberty, a rollercoaster everyone else seemed so indulged in.
Maybe if they only constituted those questions but no, external factors did have a plan of their own too. Every element of the society seemed to be attempting a coup. From friends, to teachers, to family and even strangers. Years later, it did turn out to be ‘concerns and love’ but by then, it felt like a punishment for ‘change’. Going home with unpleasant results meant that holidays were only a long spell in hell with dad hardly talking to me upon seeing my school reports. The continuous decline had no explanations. I recall one visitation day when my father cried in front of the class teacher because he couldn’t believe his once brilliant son, had now settled for 20+ aggregates in Senior Four. “What is wrong?” they would ask me but up to date, I still cannot figure out what had happened then. I did name it ‘the dry spell’. That very moment, my mother too, pulled me aside and asked if I had a girlfriend, a very innocent genuine called for question since personally, I had failed to account for those results. I did say ‘No’ even though I was going through a heartbreak then. I had been served serious breakfast but that’s a story for another day.
With a depressing academic life, Pride was forced to navigate new ways to stay relevant, ways to ensure his brother was okay despite all that was going on. Maybe sports would offer leverage? It probably could have but the pressure to get back on track with books hardly gave him any mental space to try out anything else. It meant he had to keep on reading until the stars aligned, again.
One fateful day, a conversation with a close friend yielded into something that would forever change their life. That conversation birthed the acronym ‘#JB’ which stood for ‘Just Believe’. Because at that very moment in life, everything was so uncertain. Pride and Worry were on the verge of switching places. Pride sought hiding as a remedy to battle shame. He was scared too, asking himself ‘what if this is actually it? Is this how I end up?’ He was in no way better than his brother now. From that day onwards, I chose to ‘Just Believe.’ To just believe that everything would eventually align. To just believe that the dry spell would end someday. To just believe that the faith everyone had lost in me would get restored. I chose to just believe that I would still get good final results. It quickly turned into a mindset war. A war with my own self. Despite believing hard, my mind had a lot of doubts. A lot of ‘What ifs?’ I had to compose a song, scribble down ‘#JB’ wherever I went, on everything I saw and touched because that’s how you win mind games. By constantly reminding yourself of your belief.
With that mindset, there was finally peace and calm with Pride and Worry. They looked to have stroked an equilibrium at last. Pride might have lost his feeling of might but he had acquired hope. Hope that he would strive once again and it was this very hope that Worry rode on. With this, they had finally conquered the teen age. They had learnt that it was never a straight line but rather a long road with lot of ups and downs. Whatever happened after that will forever be termed as a Testimony.
~ The Imperfect Writer
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