Room without the responsibility

I had run away from home. 

Though most of my brain had fled studies over half-a-decade ago, I had somehow made it to the tenth standard.

I had known for a long time that i did not want to study but i did not know what i wanted to do. That was a problem. Lazing around at home was not an option. That was a problem too! An alternate plan was important for the parents. I had none. 

Three days before my preliminary exams I waltzed off to Pune. With a neighbour, two years my elder. With at least 12 other friends, with a 15-year age-gap, within shouting distance of the front window at home. Without telling the parents about Pune. Without telling the friends about parents.

Both sets of people — the ones i had fled and the ones i was with — found out on the third day. I do not remember if I called home before or after they found out. I returned home by the Shatabdi — in full comfort.

Home, for me, was the hotel. The place I never informed about the times I kept and always had the keys to. The room without the responsibility.

I may have failed that maths exam.
I had, almost surely, failed my parents.
I do not know whether i failed myself.

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