Reliving old times is probably the best way to start or restart this blog. I have come to a point in my life, when yesterday makes a lot of sense, and possibly shows me the path to tomorrow. As I sit here and go through photographs, letters, and notes, text books of yesterday, then tomorrow seems more clearer and funnier.
Photographs, for the obvious reasons, I specially love the ones where I am standing in front of my father’s jeep, in my pants and shirt, because it reminds me of how early in life I was a tomboy, I kinda miss those days. :)
Letters, because they have their own sense, not emails or anything but true, solid handwritten letters from friends and cousins. I wished in those days for clearer handwriting in the form of typewriters. How I hate the keyboard now.
Notes, are funny because they have so much to say of what went right and wrong, especially at holidays, far away from home. I’m reminded of my two cousin brothers and the many buffaloes they kept calling bulls. They talk of adventures and mysteries which, I had taken upon myself to solve and go through.
It reminds me, of the young man fishing at the creek. I do not know why, I remember him. Probably, because he seemed so much at peace with himself and the world. I wish I was like that, all day, everyday.
Text books, not for all the learning we picked up from it, but for all stupid lines and drawings we made in them, just to kill the time. I’m reminded especially of a poetry book with every other English poet, for whom we drew… moustaches, beards and hats, which we deemed right to draw. It still gives me the best laughs, ever.
Through memories alone, will my stories be remembered forever and though stories alone, will I always have these memories. :)
Photographs, for the obvious reasons, I specially love the ones where I am standing in front of my father’s jeep, in my pants and shirt, because it reminds me of how early in life I was a tomboy, I kinda miss those days. :)
Letters, because they have their own sense, not emails or anything but true, solid handwritten letters from friends and cousins. I wished in those days for clearer handwriting in the form of typewriters. How I hate the keyboard now.
Notes, are funny because they have so much to say of what went right and wrong, especially at holidays, far away from home. I’m reminded of my two cousin brothers and the many buffaloes they kept calling bulls. They talk of adventures and mysteries which, I had taken upon myself to solve and go through.
It reminds me, of the young man fishing at the creek. I do not know why, I remember him. Probably, because he seemed so much at peace with himself and the world. I wish I was like that, all day, everyday.
Text books, not for all the learning we picked up from it, but for all stupid lines and drawings we made in them, just to kill the time. I’m reminded especially of a poetry book with every other English poet, for whom we drew… moustaches, beards and hats, which we deemed right to draw. It still gives me the best laughs, ever.
Through memories alone, will my stories be remembered forever and though stories alone, will I always have these memories. :)
2 comments:
All the best. The first was a lovely restart.
Alok
thx alok... :)
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