The thoughts kept coming back as, "I'm a five-year-old, I'm a thirty-seven-year-old, I'm a seventy-year-old, I'm a. . ."

 

But I knew that this wasn't getting me anywhere. I'm not a psychoanalyst to get deep into figuring out my actual age. Neither was I interested in getting a quick answer by answering a set of questions in a personality test to find out my real age. Yes, I was a differently aged person at different times of the day. While it would be nice to know one's maturity level, there's not much of an advantage in maturity over innocence. The tragic comcal irony is that as a child, one wants to grow upto bigger things but at adulthood, one remeninces over the long-lost careless and fun childhood.