The Oldest I Have Ever Been

I was eleven/twelve when I studied in the seventh grade. I was a little Hermione Granger, sticking to two close friends, a big time know-it-all and a teacher’s pet. And usually the class topper. Not many people liked me. Perhaps that has not changed overmuch but that’s a different muse altogether. It is very little wonder that I identified very strongly to Granger when I first came across Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets the following year aged thirteen.

In any case, I was in Mary Mount School, Tlangnuam at the time. I am ancient so the school infrastructure was nothing like it is today. But imagine, if you will, a place where Boss Kids aka Seventh Graders stood menacingly and intimidatingly while the smaller kids played around them. That was where Baby Zothansiami and Lalnunpuii and I were one day at recess. 

(It is customary in middle school and lower to know your friends' full names. You habitually call them by it, as well. A habit we lose in later years. Something about formative years and absorbing all the knowledge you can? Followed by a period when you just sort of give up, of course. I should check into this.)

I had two younger siblings in MMS. However, we never interacted during school hours. It was standard practice to pretend that we alone were representing our Family in this lawless land of middle school.

That fateful day, my little sister approached the three of us chilling in our spot. She was in tears. She told us a boy in her class had been mean to her. His name was H Vanlalchhanhima. We had the name. So we went to teach the mean boy a lesson. I don’t remember exactly what we did but in the Serengeti of prepubescent children where we were the lions and the littler kids were the zebras, I’m sure we weren’t nice.

But I was a Big Sister. So I did what I felt I had to do. Plus, at that time, I was the best and worst version of myself. At eleven, I knew everything. I was everything. I could do everything. Insufferable beanstalk of a human, yes, but I got shit done. 

I’ve never been that confident again. I mean I did learn to faff again in LSR and got into the whole Kardashian vibe of seeming like you knew shit when in reality, there’s not a lot of substance to you at all. I attended JNU, too; call it a booster shot. But those are all learned so they’re often slower than reflex. My Go-To these days is: I don’t know shit.

If Eleven YO Me could interact with me, she’d be so disappointed.