I have a years’ long habit of keeping a diary. Baba gifted me my first diary at the commencement of my ninth grade. It was 1998. I started writing diary on the Rakshabandhan day of 1998.
Back then, it used to be just a note of routine daily events. Those pages seem too much dry as I read them now, but they keep a record of those years that I would have forgotten in the fog otherwise. I was just 14 then. An early teenager with lots of hopes and expectations from life, too much confident and still too much sensitive about his life. A lot of things came ahead as the life unfurled. I have almost stopped writing diary in the last few years; sometimes, it becomes too difficult to be honest with oneself.
In front of me is my first diary and I am reading the page for October 7, 1998, exactly 13 years ago. It was me, 13 years ago, a lot different from what I am today, but still a glimpse of it. It’s was written in Marathi, giving a smooth translation here for you:
Result of first-term exam declared today. Got 91.33%. But principal sir pointed out I got less marks in Social Sciences (124/150) that made my mood completely off. Went to temple in the evening. Studied. Watched Sri Lanka-Zimbabwe match. Gonna sleep now.
Thus a little simple page from my diary 13 years ago. Can you find me in it?
UPATE: Sorry friends, I made an error here. This page was from date November 7, 1998; not October 7! So, still one month to go for 13 years to complete.