How apt! The year draws to a close, and I start preparations to move on uprooting myself after 11 bitter-sweet years of trying to grow some semblance of roots.
The adventurer in me welcomes the new, while the escapist shirks the responsibilities the move entails. This time I’m not as footloose and fancy free but the oars are firmly held.
Amidst all the great memories I accumulated during these years what I also have is unshakable dust & visible grime. Moping them off is not as easier as it was a decade back. Age does that. Your sense of things past is sharper than what is or what will be.
A small plaque hangs over the mirror which reads:
\\”To my brother- …..we have weathered all the highs and lows of growing up so close, of normal joys and problems we have always had our share. But in resolving difficulties and sharing moments fond we’ve formed a good relationship and built a lifetime bond..”
And as I troll through my documents to find a photo of the two of us together, I find none. All I have are remnants of cards exchanged, rakhis tied, books gifted and endless memories of stolen trips, childhood mischief, juvenile fights, teenage confidences, and the hugs. Fills my heart to know I have one person I can always turn to and count on in my deepest despair and priceless happiness. Touchwood.
The cleaning spree continues and I discover a 1952 hardbound edition of One Thousand & One Arabian Nights and several leather bound classics with silverfish happily residing inside. I find a scribbled note to myself in Hugh Prather’s Note to Myself & look at the date of purchase – college but don’t remember what caused the angst?
Tattered, dog-eared copies of Jeeves & Wooster fight with the Blandings Family and Psmith, and just when I think where are all the other colorful Wodehousian characters, there pops out Picadilly Jim and Sally. Ah, life; Perfect life!!!!!!
Underneath the cobwebs I find a chocolate wrapper neatly folded and probably kissed (traces of lipstick) and a thread. Cobwebs from the mind are cleared and long walks down avenued,breezy r0ads spring up. Hand in hand, a stolen glance, a stolen kiss, a smile, a hug – love was in the air. I look around and I find the bill for a kitchen sink (my birthday gift) and I wonder, where is the love?!
A moth-eaten saree that still has the whiff of a wooden stove and I’m back in my grandma’s lap cuddling myself into a ball so I forget my maths homework and dad’s caning. Can’t believe I lost her so young to cancer. For some reason Nostradamus comes to mind and his prediction of plague and the apocalypse. But instead of filling me up with despondency I smile. My precious rock gifted this book when I passed out of seventh. He taught me English & the other assorted combination of subjects late into the night to the bells of Radio Moscow and the hzzzz of Voice of America.
For all the scars and the grime, Life has been kind.
For all the people I lost, for all the relationships that fell by the wayside there is someone/something new. Life is good.
So here I’m already and eagerly awaiting the next ADVENTURE.
XXXX and hugs to all those who have come by to read, comment and silently glance at this, my journal. THANK YOU AND GOD BLESS.
Adieu and Au revoir!!