Old Soul still Young at Heart!!

Four years ago, my conversation with people I met in campus usually starts like this...

"So, your centre?"

"Linguistics"

"Which Semester?"

"Second"

"So, how's Coursework?"

"Coursework?"

"Oh! Sorry. Your synopsis?"

"Synopsis?"

"Aren't you in PhD??"

"No!!!"

"MPhil?"

"NO!!"

"You can't be in MA!!??"

**He looked back and realized he was already talking to himself**

I know! It's not something getting pissed over. But it's not exactly the best thing when people assume you're in PhD when you've just started your Master's degree.

It's worse when apologies quickly follow with a hurried "But you're so matured". Eyes flickering. 

"PREVARICATOR!!!" I'd scream. Silently.

I know, I know. I shouldn't be too hard on them. I was already under suspicion that I was an old soul ever since I passed out High School. A chirped "I rilru hi a hlui eee" from a very close friend was all it took to confirm my suspicions in college.

Looks wise, ever since high school, I have always been on the heavier side. And unfortunately, I inherited my paternal grandpa's dusky skin tone. Well, my grandpa, in his time, was known as the tall, dark, handsome youth in his village. And his two sons and I equally divided his epidermal qualities between us. My uncle is tall, my dad is handsome and I am ... dark. Sigh!! Genetics is just no friend of mine!

Hiding behind thick myopic glasses, pulled back hair and no makeup-look didn't do wonders in telling people your real age. Being in a friendship circle with an average age of 7 years+ your age didn't help either. So I guess, my seniors in campus who usually think I'm older, are justified in that way.

But hey! I am not that boring of an old soul either. I chatter, I chirp and I still am always ready to learn new things. Yes! My most recent pride is my conquest on riding a bicycle. And I sport battle scars to prove that I still don't give up. It still feels like butterflies when I see my man and also like the end of the world when I have a tiff with him. I can still talk for hours with my teenage Sunday School kids discussing about converse shoes and Justin Bieber. I still fight with them over Jacob Black and Edward Cullen. And yes! I've recently discovered Bruno Mars!!  I will dance on a street if I feel like it and most of the time, I am still a late riser. Yep! Rising up late is a sign that your digits are still less. Aunty Jane of Tagore International School told me so.

But do I really need to prove myself that I am still young at heart?? Age is just but a number, right? I keep telling myself that.... or so!

But it doesn't hurt either when an old family friend I met after ages, asked me if I've graduated. When answered, he quipped "Really?? You still look like you're in college!"

Maybe he knows how to compliment a woman.
Maybe he's telling the truth.
Maybe it's my new haircut
Maybe it's my makeup with which I spend months to master
Maybe it's the way I carry myself
Or
Maybe he's just a plain old liar.

But it sure doesn't hurt! It sure just doesn't hurt!