Down the memory lane
I was excited at my heart. I was driving down the memory lane. It counted for 25 years since I left my old home and now the destiny had planned to peep inside my flashback again. While crossing the park on my left, memories of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. As the car slowed down, I relived my past once again. There I was playing on the swings…learning new techniques of skating…trying my hands on Kung Fu. When I got a little bigger, I even went to the local market alone, only to be scolded later. The sudden break was put to my thoughts when the car parked at the destination. That was my home. It was a derelict building now. The stairs creaked as I climbed them. The wall that used to feel smooth and fresh with new paint, now just waited to be broken with a hammer. The air was dry but my eyes were wet. I and my brother would race upon so as to who will open the main door first. That door was no more. I moved inside. The room on the left was filled with bricks all over. I could visualise my grandma sitting on her favourite divan all day long. Her rhythmic voice was still so clear in my ears.
“Why didn’t you get the return gift from the party?” She had scolded me once “Call up your friend and tell her that I wanted to talk to her.”
I stood there clueless and kept crying as she raised her voice. I was still clueless that how come the most cherished feelings become just the memories at present. I was a monkey’s child to my mom, always stuck close to her until I slept. I wanted to be with her everywhere being it kitchen, bedroom or even washroom. But now that kitchen smelled of rotten stuff around that suppressed the aroma of my mom’s delicious food. In front, there was the room that used to be mine. The flakes of cement soiled my hands and felt like the room had not been touched for years. But nothing looked familiar now. No corner of that place seemed to be mine. Through the thin air, I could see myself playing with my cousin and then fighting over some silly issues.
Suddenly, my eyes caught something unusual. Something that shouldn’t have been there. It looked like an old door of a cupboard. I moved closer to have a clear look. I pulled out that door and was astonished to see a small box wrapped in a red cloth. That was my mom’s duppatta, I clearly remembered. It was all torn now only some bits of the cloth was left. I hurriedly opened it like a crazy small girl. I realised the same enthusiasm inside me as if I were again that 7-year-old girl. I was stunned to see the belongings. How come these were left untouched? They were my old letters written to my mom. Those letters that contained my hard feelings for her. The feelings when I didn’t like her. When I used to get scolded from her, I would write. When my wish had not been fulfilled, I would write. The words in the letters were not even clear now. But the emotions were still deep in my heart. I felt so silly of myself. Is there any comparison to mom?
“Hey, how are you? You came after such a long time?” My thoughts were invaded. I turned around to see. That was Sadhna aunty. They were our old neighbours.
“O hello aunty” I recollected myself. “I was crossing this road and thought to stop by.” I smiled back at her. She had that same friendly voice that warmly welcomed me.
“Come, let’s have some coffee” She continued.
We conversed over everything that had been missed in those 25 years. The journey was covered in some couple of hours that left me nostalgic for more coming years. Today I am living in a much bigger house and with great facilities but the magnetism of that old house will always be there in my heart. And now I even had my most cherished memory- my letters to take along.
Linking this post with @Blogchatter for the prompt ‘down the memory lane’
Facebook Comments
Beautiful post! I dread the day when I will walk back and see my memories in rubble. This post gave me that feeling, and I realized I am still not ready to leave that
Thanks Neha for reading. Going back to old memories demand serious courage and perseverance.
I am close to tears Geethica…nothing breaks a heart more than seeing your memories in rubble. Beautiful post. You took me on a virtual tour of your beautiful memory lane.
That’s so sweet of you Deepali. Thanks for dropping by.
True Geethica, earlier people around us were more friendly and welcoming. Now houses are huge, hearts are small. No one takes time to speak to neighbors, or spend time with relatives. It seems the growth of human kind, in fact is making us more sophisticated and less human
Yes Menaka. and now provided that we are always connected to internet, including me, makes us socially alert but physically away.