We were actually so stupid as kids

Sometimes I think about the things I genuinely believed as a child and wonder how I survived with that level of confidence.

Not the big things. Not serious misunderstandings about life. I mean the absolutely ridiculous things that made perfect sense to my tiny brain at the time.

Growing up as a brown kid came with its own collection of questionable beliefs.For example, I genuinely thought actors and actresses who played couples in movies and 

serials were actually couples in real life.If two people spent three hours on screen calling each other “jaan,” crying over each other, getting married, fighting, and then dramatically running through the rain, obviously they had to be together.What else could possibly explain it?

And when the movie ended, I never thought, “Wow, what good acting.”I thought, “Okay, they are probably going home together now.”

The concept of acting was technically known to me, but apparently my brain had decided it applied to school plays and nowhere else.And songs?

Oh, songs were an entirely different level of stupidity.I used to think actors were actually singing the songs we heard.

If someone appeared on screen singing beautifully while running through Switzerland, standing on a mountain, or dramatically staring at the heroine, I assumed that was their actual voice.

I didn’t understand playback singing.So when I eventually learned that the actor on screen wasn’t necessarily the person singing, it felt like discovering a national secret.

And then there were dubbing voices.If a foreign cartoon character spoke Hindi, I didn’t question anything.That was simply their voice.

I wasn’t wondering who was sitting in a studio somewhere recording it.No.The cartoon character had learned Hindi.Obviously.

Childhood logic was incredibly efficient because it required absolutely no research.Then came the famous brown-parent warnings.“Don’t sit on the floor, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Don’t sit on the floor, you’ll catch a cold.”“Don’t drink cold water after coming from outside.”“Don’t sleep with your hair wet.”

“Don’t swallow chewing gum or it will stay in your stomach for seven years.”Seven years!As children, we heard that and immediately treated chewing gum like a biological hazard.

And nobody needed to explain where the seven-year figure came from.It was simply accepted scientific data.Our parents said it.Therefore, it was true.

We also had absolutely no understanding of how television worked.When the TV was switched off, I genuinely wondered where the people went.Were they still inside?

Did the channel people tell them when to come back?Did the news anchor just sit there waiting until someone switched the TV on again?

And commercials were even more confusing.Why were these people suddenly selling toothpaste in the middle of my favourite show?Did the actors have to stop acting every few minutes and sell things?

Childhood me had no idea what advertising was.Then there were phone calls.When someone called our landline, I thought the person was somehow calling our specific house.

Not the phone.The house.Because obviously our house had its own number.

And if nobody answered, I assumed the person would somehow know we were ignoring them.The technology was far too complicated, so I simply created my own explanation.

School was another universe of nonsense.We thought teachers lived at school.Not literally, perhaps, but close enough.

Seeing a teacher in a supermarket was genuinely shocking.You would see your teacher standing in the vegetable aisle and suddenly think:

“Wait.You exist outside school?”It felt illegal.Teachers weren’t supposed to buy vegetables.

They were supposed to appear in classrooms at 8:30 every morning, write on the board, scold us for talking, and disappear.Similarly, seeing a classmate outside school was weird.

Without the uniform, some people were almost unrecognisable.We had apparently assigned everyone’s identity to their school clothes.

And don’t even get me started on relatives.As brown kids, we had a very complicated understanding of family relationships.Someone would say, “He’s your mother’s cousin’s husband’s sister’s son.”

And we would just nod.“Yes.”Did I understand?Absolutely not.Did I know what to call him?Also no.

But I would still greet him confidently because asking again would expose the fact that I had understood approximately three words of the entire explanation.

Then there was the absolute confidence we had in supernatural explanations.If something disappeared, someone had stolen it.If the lights flickered, something was happening.

If we heard a noise at night, there was definitely a ghost.If the pressure cooker made a strange sound, we were leaving the kitchen.Children don’t need evidence.

We need one suspicious noise and an imagination.And somehow, our imagination was always more powerful at night.A shadow on the wall could become a person.

A hanging piece of clothing could become a ghost.A tree moving in the wind could become something watching us.Then morning would arrive and suddenly we were brave again.

Another thing I find hilarious is how seriously we took fictional characters.If a cartoon character died, I was emotionally devastated.If someone was the villain, I hated them personally.

If the villain later turned good, I forgave them immediately.Character development? No.Personal betrayal? Yes.And the funny thing is that we weren’t stupid because we lacked intelligence.

We were stupid because we lacked context.We hadn’t learned how movies were made, how songs were recorded, how television worked, how advertisements were inserted, how families were connected, or how many things in the world happened behind the scenes.So we filled the gaps ourselves.And honestly, I kind of miss that.

There was something beautiful about believing everything you saw.A movie wasn’t a movie.It was happening.A song wasn’t a recording.

Someone was actually singing.A cartoon wasn’t animated.Those people genuinely lived somewhere.Teachers didn’t have homes.Chewing gum stayed in your stomach for seven years.

And if your mother said, “Don’t go outside, it’s cold,” then the weather itself was apparently personally trying to harm you.Growing up means learning the explanations behind all these things.

You learn about playback singers.You learn about actors.You learn about animation.You learn about editing.You learn that teachers have grocery lists too.

You learn that relatives can have unnecessarily complicated family trees.And eventually you become an adult who understands how everything works.

Except sometimes I think childhood was more fun when we didn’t.Because we were confidently wrong about everything.

And somehow, those ridiculous little misunderstandings became some of our favourite memories.Maybe that’s what childhood really was:

Being completely clueless, believing everything with your whole heart, and somehow having the time of your life.We were actually so stupid.

But honestly?It was kind of adorable.