“Dad, Mom, I’m staying at my friend’s place. We’ve got a lot to cover for the tests.”
Of course, my bosom buddy said the same thing to his parents. It was a tried-and-tested formula—foolproof, or so we thought.
Enter: The Key.
The morning after our fun-filled, totally non-studious night at the college hostel, my dad realised a key had gone missing. He called my friend’s house to check if the key was with me.
Here’s how that legendary conversation went:
Dad: “Hello, this is Rajen’s father. Can I speak to him for a moment?”
My friend’s dad (suspiciously calm) said, “Namaskar, I thought he was at your house studying with my son.”
(Cue dramatic pause)
When I reached home, the interrogation began immediately, ending our “study session” cover story.
This Also Happened
And there were teenage crushes. What a time. This is the first time I have mentioned this in public. Here goes:
I had a crush. But did I say a word? Nope. I let the days slip by, watching from afar like some background character in a cheesy rom-com. Then, news broke: she was leaving town. Panic mode activated.
It was now or never.
I slipped an unsigned card under her gate. Smooth, right? Not so much. The next day, I decided to call her to “confess” it was me. I braced for whatever came next—rejection, laughter, maybe even a heartfelt thank you.
She handled it gracefully, though it didn’t quite head how I’d have liked. I wished the ground would swallow me whole.
To this day, I’m convinced teenage crushes deserve their Olympic medal category. Why? Because they involve insane amounts of mental gymnastics:
Should I say something?
What if she laughs at me?
What if I don’t say anything and regret it forever?
Spoiler: I regretted it anyway. But it didn’t stop there.
I perfected a new strategy for the next few years—silent admiration. I’d have feelings, sure, but they stayed safely tucked away in my head. Nothing said, nothing done. And you know what? It was oddly satisfying.
Sometimes, the unsaid can be thrilling, too.
Early Success: A Ghostwriter’s Triumph
Cut to another tale from my college days that makes me look like a mix of Cupid and Shakespeare (minus the tights).
A close friend liked a girl. So what did he do? He asked me to write her a love letter on his behalf.
I put my heart into that letter. It wasn’t just good—it was good enough to make her show it to her hostel mates. The letter worked like magic. My friend was now officially in a relationship, and I sat back in the shadows like a proud, anonymous wordsmith.
Did I tell anyone I wrote that letter? Nope. And I still haven’t—until now.
The Joy of Looking Back
The thing about teenage years is that they’re packed with moments. Some are laugh-out-loud hilarious. Some are cringe-worthy. And others are bittersweet—because you’ll never quite feel that reckless, invincible, and clueless again.
We thought we were grown-ups, ready to take on the world. Looking back, we were just kids, fumbling through life, trying to balance our budding independence with our parents’ watchful eyes.
And the funny part? Those stories, the ones you were scared to tell then, become your best memories. They’re the ones you recount decades later with friends, smiling like it happened yesterday.
A Final Word
If you’re a teenager reading this, cherish these years. If you’re a parent, let your kids stumble occasionally. There’s no harm in some adventure as long as they find their way back.
And if you ever lie about a night out? Make sure there’s no damn key ready to blow your cover.
Because, trust me, keys are traitors.
About Me
I am a thinker at all times. I see, I think. I hear, I think. I read, I think. Every weekend I write. I would love to know what you think.