dil kyoon ye mera........
it's such a, such a, such a b'ful song.
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-A letter to childhood days-
Dear Childhood,
You saw me off at Borders, then turned around and cycled away. It was summer of some year, many years ago. I stood at the beginning of a never ending life, waiting for it to end, wondering every morning how the riddles would get solved. The happiness was yours, of fresh life, of fresh herbs on your window-sill and fruit juices. Creative, energetic, whacky, you played with life, with every moment, on impulse. I had a long walk ahead of me. The book I bought that day lies in my cupboard of disposable books today. There was a time when I didn't know you. You lived with me and yet I didn't know you.
And then one winter some years later we were alone, there were so many random things to talk about and we pondered through the night over the meanings of words, concepts and how they evolved in different settings. I hoped that night that some of what we talked about in totally academic tones would help you. I wished the coffee mugs wouldn't break.
And then the other evening, we sat together again and that gloss flowing dinner of giggles, variously accented chatter, weirdly soothing music, soft light evoked such a strange feeling of deja vu, like nothing had changed, like the happiness was always there. As for me, that never ending life had ended and yet I was experiencing an unwillingness to part with it. But there we were, celebrating - for small mercies and achievements, for friends who cared for us, for questions that were answered and those that were left hanging halfway with dots to be continued, for our own tiny universes of joy and sorrow, dilemmas and crossroads, for the many journeys, past, present and future!
And you know, when I think of good times I often think of the times spent with you, lost somewhere, in between words and thoughts, in between life, ideas and dreams.
.
it's such a, such a, such a b'ful song.
----------------------------------------
-A letter to childhood days-
Dear Childhood,
You saw me off at Borders, then turned around and cycled away. It was summer of some year, many years ago. I stood at the beginning of a never ending life, waiting for it to end, wondering every morning how the riddles would get solved. The happiness was yours, of fresh life, of fresh herbs on your window-sill and fruit juices. Creative, energetic, whacky, you played with life, with every moment, on impulse. I had a long walk ahead of me. The book I bought that day lies in my cupboard of disposable books today. There was a time when I didn't know you. You lived with me and yet I didn't know you.
And then one winter some years later we were alone, there were so many random things to talk about and we pondered through the night over the meanings of words, concepts and how they evolved in different settings. I hoped that night that some of what we talked about in totally academic tones would help you. I wished the coffee mugs wouldn't break.
And then the other evening, we sat together again and that gloss flowing dinner of giggles, variously accented chatter, weirdly soothing music, soft light evoked such a strange feeling of deja vu, like nothing had changed, like the happiness was always there. As for me, that never ending life had ended and yet I was experiencing an unwillingness to part with it. But there we were, celebrating - for small mercies and achievements, for friends who cared for us, for questions that were answered and those that were left hanging halfway with dots to be continued, for our own tiny universes of joy and sorrow, dilemmas and crossroads, for the many journeys, past, present and future!
And you know, when I think of good times I often think of the times spent with you, lost somewhere, in between words and thoughts, in between life, ideas and dreams.
.
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