My sister was watching some Oriental cartoon on TV yesterday whose name rhymed with Hakuna Matata and Ajinomoto. The last time I associated Oriental with media was when I watched those glorious orgasmic earfuck in the form of censored porn. The thing with Oriental porn is, it suits for people with all kinds of sexual orientations, there is no visual perception of a gender bias, all the actors just look the same. So if you’re lesbian and you’re watching Oriental porn, the whole screen is filled with ladies with their pixilated vaginas, if you’re gay- the same applies and if you’re still unsure of what cadre you belong to, it’s just masturbation, all of them look alike, just like your dreams, those orgies where you place yourself in midst of people you know, that silent moment when you close your eyes. The question remains, how do I know about the nuances of Oriental porn? Was I, as a kid ever subjected to an overdose of vile sexual acts, or did I have subject based on it in school? Some question in geography like, name the famous exports of China with an answer on the lines of opium, Maoism and porn. Or a history question like which famous Chinese child artist was deflow…, you know. Well, I don’t know how I was exposed to the ol’ Oriental in and out first, but I certainly do know why I was exposed to it. When you’re thirteen and your friends start talking about porn, you get into the discussion because it’s titillating for that age. What adds to it is the curiosity factor, “Enter the site if you’re above 21” with tits flashing around all around the button. Even Mahatma Gandhi would’ve changed his opinions about honesty and start all over again about his ‘experiences’ with truth. The curiosity factor in any kid’s mind reason him first with a “why” and soon after it’ll be replaced with a “why not?” . Yes, why not? We all wanted to grow up, and why did we all wanted to grow up? To be like our fathers? To be like that cricketer for whom you’ve cheered all your childhood? Because your mom said you can drink coffee only when you’re over twenty? My mom said that and that’s why I wanted to grow up. Not that I wouldn’t have grow up, but a distinct part of everyone’s dreams consisted of them growing up. In those famous 'teacher' and 'doctor' games, we saw images of people, people who wanted to become and we just wanted to grow up.

                                But now, if you’re still reading this article I consider you to be a grown up. And now, if I asked you how it is like being grown up, you’d say that you had better fun as a kid. There’s no more fun in the things we always wanted to do. You experience it firsthand how smoking harms you, you’d know that there are better things to drink than alcohol and that weed can not only make you hungry but also can give you a near death experience. You’d also know that girls and cars aren’t the best things you can chase and that when you were a kid you weren’t exposed to as much filth you are exposed to now. Prostitution, nepotism, addiction, STDs. You’d know that some of the best moments in your life are spent clothed, and you’d also know that post forty humping would be a distant dream and so would be running. As kids our lives had no purpose, to quote a dead old poet, ‘kids are the flowers in God’s garden’. And as grownups we still don’t find the purpose of being alive for the next day. Why do we do the things we do? Why do we love the things we love? When in a job you’d say that you enjoyed college better and in college the answer would be, well you’re right, school. Our lives become stranded, there’s no more curiosity, no burning zeal to learn. Do we know everything we’re supposed to know? No. But we don’t know the fact that we don’t know anything either. We just want to be kids, just for the heck of it. But why do we want to be kids again? It’s not that times were fun then, it was because we learnt stuff then without stress. We learnt to grow up, we learnt to look forward and be like others we always wanted to be. Like poking pencils into the butt of that dude who stole your dosa in the lunch time. Now we’ve become doctors ‘for we want to serve the society and…’ and we want to be engineers because ‘the creativity enthralls us and the…’, fuck it. We all know why we’re here, we’re here for money. Because we want to see what it brings us, a beautiful wife, a big TV and that car, Audi probably. But we don’t want them with the purity we wanted things when we were kids. And that’s what makes our lives unhappy. We once used pens to write down notes and now we use the same pens for stuffing up crack into those old little paper rolls. We end up loathing all the days we’ve lived as grownups and look forward for the times when we can raise our children again and look to relive our lives only to know the truth, we can’t.  We are grown up or we do think we’re grown up because of the curiosity fuelled by our minds when they were young. 

                                Supposing the cartoons are age restricted with all of them banned for adults over 21, we’d be curious. We’d ask, ‘why?’. We should stop ourselves from being a kid, we should tell ourselves that ‘Oh! I could’ve done that if I was a kid’. And we’ll then ask ourselves the question, ‘Why can’t I do it now?’. You’d ask yourselves why you can’t steal somebody else’s lunch, you’d ask yourselves, ‘Why can’t I? Wasn’t it fun at one point of my life?’. Supposing everything that’s fun is age restricted for adults, then won’t we all be curious again? We never did grow up, we just thought we did. Inside there is a little kid screaming to be heard but we just convince ourselves that it’s just another voice in our head trying to fuck us up. Well, it isn’t. Go smash the first window you see and ring a calling bell and runaway, buy a candy and suck on it for an hour and run. Run, dudes. Run. Like Forrest did. Like we all did. You might not win an Oscar but you’ll feel happier than if you’d have won one.