Thursday, February 1, 2007

Reminiscences, a little nostalgia and some incoherent babbling.

Last week was Saraswati Puja. There was this unmistakable heady scent of ‘kuls’ in the air, and everything wore a paint of yellow- bringing back memories of all those days spent here, all those Saraswati Pujas we always looked forward to…the paper chains to be made, the goddess to be adorned… the ‘alpana’ to be made without any delay…

I have grown up in this four-storied building with about five or six people roughly the same age as mine. Every evening, we would descend to the basement and play. Be it basketball, badminton or even carom- play we must. The walls would echo our laughter, and there was so much of sunshine in our lives! Every occasion was looked forward to, and every little thing made us happy… we gave roses on ‘Rose Day’, painstakingly made friendships bands for each other along with hand painted cards… little tokens of appreciation and love. Picnic would be one of those halcyon days… we would be up before the sun itself, filled with energy as we pushed our heads up sweaters too tight for us and wore sneakers caked with dirt. Who cared? All we wanted was fun.
There came a bus and we poured in, trying to get a seat near the hallowed ones:
All ‘DADAS’ and ‘DIDIS’.

The little attention they bestowed on us would send us into spasms of delight. And why not? After all, we were six school-goers, hardly qualifying as teenagers while they were all college-goers then. They were the ‘cool’ people. Besides we wanted to spy on them, and find out who was dating whom. Theirs was a larger group- about six boys and seven girls in all.

Impromptu feasts would keep taking place throughout the year without rhyme or reason, and enjoyed immensely! We were infamous for having weird games up our sleeve for every occasion. Be it a game called ‘lalure’ (something we made up ourselves, and I would rather not burden you with its details), or dumb-charades (where we ended up talking, coughing, spluttering and what not)

Today almost nothing remains. All the didis are married, and have left the city… all dadas too busy with their office work to even care about petty things like feasts… and even our group has scattered. Some gone to different engineering colleges, some busy preparing for their board exams. And others who do not care. Every year at least during the Durga Puja we try to interact… but something is still missing. These people have been able to break the bonds holding them back. I have not. There is no sense of security in the fact that I belong here. No one else does.

No longer can you see us midgets jumping up and down trying to retrieve the ball that got stuck in someone’s kitchen pipe. Or dipping our hands into a plateful of ‘biriyani’ during the feasts, to get the biggest piece of mutton… or perhaps the running wildly…freely… and hiding in the dirtiest corner ever, only to hear someone call “I spy!”

I miss those days. I miss my friends. I miss laughing my head off at stupid jokes. I miss those evenings when we were made to clean up the basement walls (as we had scribbled on them- a prank)… hauling buckets of water and splashing them on the walls...
I miss the warmth that this building lent me once; it was a cocoon, a shelter for us all…
How I wish I could go back five years and relive those days again!

I am an emotional dork.

6 comments:

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Raka said...

u re nt an emotional dork..if so then we all are...nostalgia has its own charm...these last few days have been very nostalgic one for me...old friends[my blog pist about-they came,they conquered and went away]somehow even if we want these beautiful monets to last they dont..they slip through our fingers like sand....dont worry pal we all are emotional fools some come clean and show while others prefer to hide behind facades...

btw u have a wonderful blog here...its really nice..i am linking ur blog to mine..i hope u dont mind... :)

anurima said...

@ raka:::
thanks a ton! and yes...i guess it is better to come clean, than hide behind masks... they stifle you...

Lost Poet said...

There is something very warm about those days indeed. But I left them when I entered class vi or so. And anyways, being emotionally more mature than your contemporaries is another huge drawback. In any case...a friendship that lasts a lifetime is very very rare indeed. Glad to say that I have two very close friends from not exactly my childhood but close enough. Luckily our mental depths match. BUt Still I am not sure that this will be forever.
The most important thing to learn for people like us is to let go, because most probably we will never find that one true friend we all want. Don't be sad,at the risk of sounding like a Jaethamoshaai I will say that this all part of growing up and must be dealt with. We, are here for you though, in any case. Your one special girl. I will give you that.

anurima said...

@lost poet:::

human psyche bojha koi tumse sikhe! :D

i had almost gotten over this lamenting phase but saraswati puja brought with it a fresh pang. as for me being 'special':)... i could go on inserting a thousand smileys! thanx...

Suki said...

It is hard to get used to the fact that people we have grown up with, felt as one with and loved are very, very different from us. I don't think I've managed to get used to it yet, but Mr Psychoanalyst here is right - we are all different from most of the rest, and it thus becomes necessary for us to forsake the conventional ideas of friends, kith and and kin. We have to find our own ilk, hard as it sometimes may seem to do so.

It's your uniqueness that makes you special, that is in its own way your blessing. Be proud of it, don't regret it. We love you and accept you just as you are!
Oh, and as Raka says, you aren't an emotional dork!