Tuesday, September 15, 2009

From The Closet

One day due to some strange reason I started walking through the streets where I grew.
Reminiscence and childhood memories with every step, the playground where we friends used to bash up each other in the name of some wild game and patched up for the next game, the games were always on perhaps they never stop, the old flour mill and the masala shop, the teachers who lived nearby, the tuition centres, my friend’s homes, girls who I thought were beautiful, who lived nearby, the slanting post where I drove the new bicycle and crashed on the other side of the wall, the old tiled house with hanging pots and the Morris Minor, Herald and Lambretta, the tank at the backyard where I soaked myself in summer, which made me think that I was an ace swimmer, which ended up in me getting bashed for jumping into the sea thinking that swimming in the ocean was as easy as swimming in the tank, the famous landmark-a telephone exchange, the skating rink, the guitar classes, the wedding house where I learnt the existence of class system, the empty plot into which we used to shoot rockets with fire on their tail, the mango and guava trees, my secret hiding place in the old depleted building, the old well into which we used to throw the biggest stones to hear them splash, the Sunday classes... even if anything had changed, my eyes saw only the mirage of their presence as it was when I was a kid.
A deliberate stubbornness to ensure that nothing should change… an attempt to wish that the small essence of innocent memories through those eyes of the child must not be lost.
Wish I could go back time and relive a few moments I cherish and change a few I regret as well. Think I do not have the luxury to say as many do that I do not wish to turn back and change anything in my life if given a chance to do so. At times God is like an unforgiving opponent in the game of chess who would not let us change a move we regret after making it.
Time, money and mobility changes our life style and at times family, fate and duty creates a distance between us and people we wish to be with. However, at the end of the day, money changes everything I suppose. It can make people hate and love in seconds, create an illusion and make a dream come true right in front of our eyes, makes the ugly beautiful and vice versa, breaks barriers for self and sets up barriers for others, creates suspicion, doubts and at the same time liberates people. It is a genie. I think I would give in to letting money stay with me if it knows how to keep silent.

Bottomline: Songs of innocence are cherished only after lamenting through songs of experience.

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