Have you ever missed something so much that you could sense it? I have….. the hot, spicy taste of chicken masala and the feel of the the hot, butter soaked, soft chapatis has been on my mind for the last few months. My taste buds (which according to my mom is highly developed!) craves good food and has become numb/ obsolete from being forced to taste bland , fried chicken strips and bread.
Today, I entered a beautiful, place, a fragmented reflection of a part of my memories. Sarvana Bhavan gave back to me a piece of India, a place that has become smudged or exaggerated to such epic proportions that it has become more an illusion than reality. I cannot remember what my house looks like, or, the way from my house to school, or even the local bookstore (where I spent major portion of my childhood). Like the edges of a peripheral image I can not bring to my eye the exact picture of my cousins or ‘mashi’ (who I was as close to as I am to my mom). Can I chalk it up to life and the changes that come with it or is it some personal failing?
Sometimes, I wonder what my life would have been like if my parents had decided to remain in Dehradoon. Would I have given up my dream to study Arts and chosen the easier route and taken commerce in the same school that I had studied in for 12 years? Would I think the same way as I do today? Would I be going to LSR and traveling four times every two months by train to make it back home? Would I have made new friends or stuck to the old ones? Should I be jealous of that girl or feel relieved that the change happened? Do alternate universes exist and the path that my life has taken- is it because of me or my parents?
I am going to be staying in a home sharing space with three other girls from next semester. I am excited and for that am surprised. I should be afraid…after all I hate change. But, I want to go shopping for groceries, cook food at the end of the day, make plans for the weekend and have my own space. Are these signs of growing up? Or just me accepting that change will happen no matter what I do and accepting it.
Maybe it is a bit of both. Accepting that change will happen has made me more open to it and even excited to experience the consequences of it. Normalcy and consistency are comforting but make for a bland and safe life. I want to choose the rollercoaster even if that means that I have to puke and feel the ground shaking under me once I get off.
Memories are for storing, to be protected just as a toddler protects his first ‘find’. They should not be relived, just cherished as a reminder of moments lived. Change is not nature’s cynicism but a hope for a better reality. And that is what I have understood, slowly but surely, this past year and what I want to leave you with today.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment