Another day, another birthday..........
Not mine but does that really matter ? Each milestone someone you know passes, it is you who are acutely aware of the sand in the hourglass - each tiny little grain...separating itself from the rest, sliding ever so slowly along the curve of that smooth path, waiting an instant...an eternity for some... and then just as surely, dropping down. Another moment gone... and before you know it, so have you.
It's summer here as of now and its officially the holidays. I suppose one indication that we are no longer children in the truest sense of the word is the fact that the summer holidays no longer exist for us. It doesn't for me either; I have the dubious honour of having to take 2 classes in the summer semester.... and well, right when the professor has been talking for more time than you'd care to believe, I think back to the times summer meant being woken up by mum and after a suitable breakfast being politely directed outside the house toward... well... a long, carefree day.
Bike rides on my beloved Hero Ranger cycle, noisy games of cricket with most of the colony kids, sleepy afternoons spent either watching tv or playing any board games that we could get our hands on, more cricket in the evening, just hanging around talking... that's what I remember. Or, choose to remember, since I've lost more than I care to reminiscence on.
In the end, I suppose we may be no different from the waves that crash upon the beach, head as far from the sea as possible and just when we think we've done it, get pulled back toward the only certainty there really is. We're ghosts you know... all the places we've ever been to will be there after we no longer are... and I'd like to think that there's some memory or image of us forever left behind in these places, remembering both the laughter and the times the laughter just wouldn't come. Even something as simple as a seat somewhere has the ability to bring back past images so vividly, you can only wonder how that grain of sand has slipped by... is slipping by.
Does that nameless fear ever clutch your heart suddenly when you wonder how many opportunities have also similarly slipped by ??
There may only be the road ahead of us... but the ghosts are always at our heels and like the siren song, entice us to look back just once more... again and again. In the end, what have we really left behind and what do we really miss ??
The realization that anything and everything was possible... that there was still time... that nothing was really certain......... yet.
Not mine but does that really matter ? Each milestone someone you know passes, it is you who are acutely aware of the sand in the hourglass - each tiny little grain...separating itself from the rest, sliding ever so slowly along the curve of that smooth path, waiting an instant...an eternity for some... and then just as surely, dropping down. Another moment gone... and before you know it, so have you.
It's summer here as of now and its officially the holidays. I suppose one indication that we are no longer children in the truest sense of the word is the fact that the summer holidays no longer exist for us. It doesn't for me either; I have the dubious honour of having to take 2 classes in the summer semester.... and well, right when the professor has been talking for more time than you'd care to believe, I think back to the times summer meant being woken up by mum and after a suitable breakfast being politely directed outside the house toward... well... a long, carefree day.
Bike rides on my beloved Hero Ranger cycle, noisy games of cricket with most of the colony kids, sleepy afternoons spent either watching tv or playing any board games that we could get our hands on, more cricket in the evening, just hanging around talking... that's what I remember. Or, choose to remember, since I've lost more than I care to reminiscence on.
In the end, I suppose we may be no different from the waves that crash upon the beach, head as far from the sea as possible and just when we think we've done it, get pulled back toward the only certainty there really is. We're ghosts you know... all the places we've ever been to will be there after we no longer are... and I'd like to think that there's some memory or image of us forever left behind in these places, remembering both the laughter and the times the laughter just wouldn't come. Even something as simple as a seat somewhere has the ability to bring back past images so vividly, you can only wonder how that grain of sand has slipped by... is slipping by.
Does that nameless fear ever clutch your heart suddenly when you wonder how many opportunities have also similarly slipped by ??
There may only be the road ahead of us... but the ghosts are always at our heels and like the siren song, entice us to look back just once more... again and again. In the end, what have we really left behind and what do we really miss ??
The realization that anything and everything was possible... that there was still time... that nothing was really certain......... yet.
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