Monsoons,cold,chilly mornings,steaming cup of coffee are so associated with memories,nostalgia..Memories of your childhood,of growing up,of your school,of your first stage performance,of your hostel,the late night maggi sessions,bunking classes,movies,friends...So many...
And I guess the time you start realising this or begin going down the memory lane is when it dawns upon you that you are growing up,getting independent,are responsible for your actions,working,earning...And trust me you do not like it that much...
You then want to be that kid again with no worries,with no fears of the world,with no complicated people to deal with..All you had to do was finish your homework,drink a cup of bournvita & go to play..Life was so simple then...I remember sneaking into my mother's room,opening her cupboard & quietly draping her saree,wearing her heels & playing teacher-teacher all day long on sundays.I used to even keep my old notebooks in place, in order to be able to check them,give remarks.My father had bought me a duster,chalks & a blackboard,that was always hanging on the wall of my room.One of my other favourite things as a kid was playing the beauty parlour game.And my only loyal customer throughout, used to be my dad.He never ever denied to be the victim of my experiments & face tortures.I used to tie his hair(even though it was difficult to do that,with such little hair) I never gave up & neither did he;apply my mom's lipstick,talcom powder & there he was..Appearing/pretending to be very content with his beautician & in return give a kiss on my cheek & some paper notes which had some numbers written on them.We called that money:-) I really admired & still do my dad's patience & his enthusiasm which would put a teenager to shame.He would & is still so full of exuberance.I remember,when he used to return back home from work all tired,the moment he used to see me & my sister he would get all geared up & pamper us with our demands.He still does that.
I am so previledged to have such a cool father.He was a kid when me & my sister were young and now he is a friend to us.I remember having my first glass of wine with him when I turned 18 and believe me he was the one who said I could.
I really admire & look upto him for so many things- his benevolence, his respect for my mother, his genuine concern, not just towards human beings but also animals & above all for the genuine person that he is.He is not very good with words but his eyes,his gentle touch radiates inexplicable warmth & never-ending love for his beloved ones.
And now after living by myself I hate to be called independent because there is still this little kid in me who still wants to be dependent on her parents,ask them or take their permission for the smallest of things..I dont feel prepared to take my own decisions because that reminds of being independent & start of a life/venture away from home,away from my family..
I guess its time to bring my wandering mind back in place,to face this reality but some things like these simple pleasures,memories would never change & I would not let any time phase,age,distance take that away from me...
