My outlook inbox number was showing ‘1994’ today. I took a deep 10 second look at it and was quickly reminiscent of how life was, way back in 1994. These are few of what I remember – vaguely and hazily as I swept past nostalgia.
As any teenager, I was equally inquisitive, confused and overtly ambitious. Rounding off, I was as crazy as you were.
I wasn’t the era of IoT then, so life was simple with DD, brick games and lots of school friends. Then it wasn’t about being desirable, you had those friends. Period.
Watching a movie in theatre, eating out with dad’s money and wooing girls was the happening mantra then. You were judged by number of girlfriends you had and the swanky look you possessed. School rivalries were huge – as big as battle of plassey.
I was, in general terms, brilliant, non academically. Sports and Cinema were my steal breathers and I loved immersing myself in to intracacies. Not periodically, all the time. Sachin scored his first ODI century against the aussies and Sampras was reigning supreme. And I remember Dunga’s Brazil lifting the WC as Roberto Baggio’s penalty kick went berserk. Aamir and Salman were still young, emerging stars and their movies released in standard format of 4 shows a day in theatres and an iconic 70 mm screen. Jurassic Park was a rage and still running to packed houses. Dollar exchange rate was hovering around 31 rupees and the concept of inflation was still an alien concept to innocent minds.
The apartment we lived in, I went on to live there for 13 years. Neighbourhood, stores, flats, acquaintances, school, buddies, vegetable vendors. I was the king of the jungle.