Want to make a movie out of my life

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When I sit back and analyze the past years, I desperately feel like making a movie out of my life,

About the little girl I was, to the tomboyish teenager, to a passionate girlfriend and a wonderful future wife.

The movie would categorically fit all existing genres and entertain audiences of all possible sorts,

Spectators would see me transition to sarees, ballroom dresses and a lady from a stone cold girl who ones loved her shorts.

From my life as a sports lover who played basketball without caring about bruises and sun tans,

To a black belt holder who broke wooden planks and bricks and made the juniors become die-hard fans.

A girl who could sit dumb on the first bench in the class without knowing a thing,

To someone who would bunk the class with an official reason to practice a melody that the school wants her to sing.

At one moment I could surprise someone with the lamest joke in the world,

And the other moment I could ask the trickiest question out of my head and leave your brain nerves curled.

The movie will show a childhood that is cute, bubbly and humorous,

And then I will grow into a teenager who is abusive, raw and furious.

During my later teenage I will be a girl who is shy, meek and an explorer,

Early adulthood would see me rise to become a pro and a high scorer.

The story would be a tale of a weird childhood and a noisy neighbourhood,

Only to grow into a saga of pride and passion blazing with all the essence of the quintessential adulthood.

The teenager would be a girl, who would love to act, pretend and live my life like a typical tomboy,

Later a lady who is a yummy concoction of youth, mystery, romance, sorrow and is at times coy.

The story, where you will initially see me resisting love, then falling in love and eventually falling out of it,

Only to realize that love is a vicious circle and if one has been there once, will again have to fall in the pit.

At times she is even better than a chocolate covered candy heart,

And at other times spicier than the spiciest of chillies in a mart.

She isn’t boastful and proud of her possessions,

And not even over obsessed with her most obsessive obsessions.

The one who puts her soul into everything she does,

Even a pesky little imperfection makes her wanna fuss.

The one who is not a jack but a master of all traits, she is Miss Jill,

Who can come back down without hurting her head after fetching a pail of water from the hill.

It would clearly showcase me sailing through the tides of time singing my own melody,

At times dancing as a ruthless hip hopper or happily waltzing around to even shedding tears in melancholy.

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