A whiff of nostalgia
I look outside my window. It is a bright and beautiful day with the lovely blue sky and the giant white fluffy clouds, the trees all green and the beautiful blooming flowers. I want to keep staring outside or better still I am tempted to go for a walk. But I look around me and reality strikes me. Ten huge cardboard boxes stare at me. It is not the size of the boxes that matters me, it is the weight of the memories that they hold that scares me. These boxes my friend, are no ordinary boxes. These are the boxes that hold a huge part of my life. This is the stuff that I’d accumulated over the years- stuff which for so long was sitting in my childhood house all these days. This was the stuff that mom always asked me to clean up when I went home. Now she’s packed all my stuff and sent it here and I have to deal with it.
Most of the boxes contain books- books from the time that I started reading. There are also a few books from Dad’s collection which Mom knew I liked. I sit down and hold each book in my hand. Now this is going to take a while. I sift through random pages. They are yellow and crinkly. Some pages are dog eared not intentionally but by mistake- the mistake of falling asleep with a book. I hold a book and take a whiff – the smell is heavenly. It is the smell of nostalgia and I’m transported back to my childhood days.
I remember Mom reading out to me a story. I remember Dad trying to teach me to read a book. I can remember lazing around during summer holidays in my grandma’s house with a book in hand. I remember hiding novels behind textbooks and reading the novels while I had to study for my exams. I remember crying when my favourite character in that book was in trouble or something bad happened. I remember jumping in joy, laughing till my stomach hurt when I came across something funny while reading. I remember dreaming about the love of my life and about our love story when I read a love story. They were all there. The books that I received as presents on my birthday, the books that I won, the books that I had bought after saving my pocket money. For another person, it could just be a box of books but for me these books were everything.
While going through one of the books, I found a newspaper cutting. It wasn’t just any newspaper cutting, it was the cutting of my first poem that was published. It was my mom who had managed to carefully preserve it for all these years.It brought back memories of that day when I jumped with joy looking at my poem that was published. May be that was what made me keep writing and even start a blog. As I kept looking at the other books, I did find a lot of things. A piece of paper with another poem that I’d written, a handmade bookmark and then a letter. A letter that I’d written but never posted. A letter to God. Down the memory lane I went, when I wrote to God in difficult times. For a moment, I felt like laughing at myself but then when I thought about it I realized how much better it was to just let go what was in my mind by writing to God!
The treasures in the boxes weren’t over yet. There were a lot of memories there- pictures, little notes that were written in class and the like. Some things I was eager to open and the rest I just didn’t know if I was ready. I had taken a whiff of nostalgia but was I ready to walk down the memory lane? Though there a lot of moments that I wish to relive, there definitely are some which do not want to be reminded of. But yes, I could go on forever sniffing each page, caressing each page and feeling those words. Friends may have left me, but my books were the ones that helped me through those times and are still with me.
Linking this post to Blog Chatter’s prompt for this week: Down the memory lane