Extinct species! Certainly you can name a few, most of us can. But how about an extinct word? Sounds unusual! If I am suppose to propose one, I would certainly do, at the end.
My abode has many unusual entities. The walls speak, the window provides me a free trip to the bygone past and the books, showing off their eternal rights of occupying me everywhere.
Sitting by the window, I had an instant urge to go nostalgic. The
childhood spent in a countryside, playing cricket in the school ground,
breaking the nose and managing to hide it well from baba, all looks
clear.
The homesickness of the early college days and the bunch of monsters who used to drop me at the railway station and I have never ever missed the 10pm train to home.
Be it early in the morning too, I always had the luxury of having a few stupids to accompany me up to the tea shop, a kilometer away from the hostel.
The guy who almost flunked in every exam but wakes me up at 4am during the semester tests have a soft place in my memory too. Well, all of you must have more unique memories than mine.
Years have passed. Bound alone in a 10×12 feet room, I have rediscovered my self as someone, who just don't fit in to the changes, at least the one with the relationships. Gradually the moments have grown older, weaker through the growing loneliness in me.
If changes are so inevitable in ones life and turns the ever-known faces to strangers, I certainly would wish to go back to the school play ground where once I played cricket and broken my nose. I would wish to go back to room no 16, RCM hostel, where I fought, hugged and found the Best Buddy of my life and one last time, I would go back and give him a tight hug, who had passed away last year before we talked again just because of being rivals in the class.
It's not easy anymore. Even today, I catch the same 10pm train. I reach the station much earlier and get myself busy with the phone. I find it much difficult to wake up early and I don't have to walk a kilometer for the tea. It reaches up to the bed. Cricket, I don't play so often and my nose at its right place too. The silence, that has been brewing long with the growing beards and gray hairs restrain me from any fights neither do I hug anybody these days. A shake-hand justifies the corporate etiquettes precisely.
I use the the latest gadgets, use Facebook, Twitter to keep myself socially active. But the society, I had built from the day of breaking my nose up to catching the 10pm train have vanished, what has remained are the pale memories. Memories of the early morning tea, late night train, hostel room fight and a broken nose, that will hunt me till I remain human, till the silence in my room is echoed, till I feel, I need a "friend" desperately..
V@@S.
The homesickness of the early college days and the bunch of monsters who used to drop me at the railway station and I have never ever missed the 10pm train to home.
Be it early in the morning too, I always had the luxury of having a few stupids to accompany me up to the tea shop, a kilometer away from the hostel.
The guy who almost flunked in every exam but wakes me up at 4am during the semester tests have a soft place in my memory too. Well, all of you must have more unique memories than mine.
Years have passed. Bound alone in a 10×12 feet room, I have rediscovered my self as someone, who just don't fit in to the changes, at least the one with the relationships. Gradually the moments have grown older, weaker through the growing loneliness in me.
If changes are so inevitable in ones life and turns the ever-known faces to strangers, I certainly would wish to go back to the school play ground where once I played cricket and broken my nose. I would wish to go back to room no 16, RCM hostel, where I fought, hugged and found the Best Buddy of my life and one last time, I would go back and give him a tight hug, who had passed away last year before we talked again just because of being rivals in the class.
It's not easy anymore. Even today, I catch the same 10pm train. I reach the station much earlier and get myself busy with the phone. I find it much difficult to wake up early and I don't have to walk a kilometer for the tea. It reaches up to the bed. Cricket, I don't play so often and my nose at its right place too. The silence, that has been brewing long with the growing beards and gray hairs restrain me from any fights neither do I hug anybody these days. A shake-hand justifies the corporate etiquettes precisely.
I use the the latest gadgets, use Facebook, Twitter to keep myself socially active. But the society, I had built from the day of breaking my nose up to catching the 10pm train have vanished, what has remained are the pale memories. Memories of the early morning tea, late night train, hostel room fight and a broken nose, that will hunt me till I remain human, till the silence in my room is echoed, till I feel, I need a "friend" desperately..
V@@S.
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