In the winter of 1998,I said goodbye to all my friends who waved back at me as I disappeared into our old ambassador.With my head popped out of the car window, I still fixed my gaze at the diminishing outlines of my friends,my first ever group of friends who introduced me to cricket,friends who taught me to run when there was trouble,friends whose presence made my every birthday a joy spree,friends in whose company I had become the cynosure of the street's eyes.....friends who made my childhood very special.Yet it did not dawn on me that it would be that last time I'd be seeing half of them.The lanes of Oaklipuram in Bengaluru run through my mind as they create a nostalgic feeling when I think of my bachpan.
I remember them....
I remember them......
Whenever I dream of paying a visit there,I have always picturised myself returning with a feeling....a feeling of immense satisfaction.But I rather carried a different feeling in my mind when I was at the exit of Oaklipuram a week ago.The more I think of it, the more the feeling occupies my mind space.
.
Everything had changed.My home was destroyed and as its replacement stood a taller building with withered paint and noticable water leaking spots.Apparently, the building was sobbing.There werent many friends left who stayed there.I managed to meet one only to discover that he too was ignorant of where the others were.
" Time flew fast man!Some shifted to mumbai,some to chennai,one left the country" he said."But, I am not in touch with them" he added.
Rambo,the only non-homo sapien of our gang had been an "all-bark-no-bite" dog which had a unique reputation among other street dogs.The lengthened silence throughout my presence made me comprehend that Rambo was no more.There was no need to ask my friend too.Some things are best understood in silence which is sometimes the best form of communication..
Old John uncle had always been kind to us.Sipping his evening tea,he used to relax in his easy chair during the evenings and watch us play cricket.Sometimes he even joined us posing himself as the umpire.
Well, that was old John uncle and now he was older,stopped talking,spent most of the time on bed and was gradually losing his memory.
That was enough....I spent some time drifting across the old lanes trying to recollect things.It was time to leave and I knew I wasn't leaving with what i thought I would be.Today as I sit back and think,I realise that all the good things happening to you now are past in the future.The past which you can never recreate ever again.Worse or hopefully better, but you cannot live the created past with the same feeling as you lived the original past.If I ever believed in a God, I'd say TIME IS GOD.
P.S 1)If what I realised is an obvious thing then :P
2)This is what I felt( It may not be true or universally applicable)....as they say.."there are always 3 versions of the truth...your version, my version and the actual version"
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