I stumble upon old pictures taken from a phone camera without any filters and find them more beautiful than the ones taken from my DSLR.Things were plain, people were simple and places were beautiful.Even though I have all the time in the world, nothing can bring back the joy of summer vacationsThose long afternoons spent with grandma, watching movies, playing Ghar all day.
We rushed to the terrace to grab our favourite corners and slept under the stars listening to fairytales from amma.” Light aa gayi ” still rings in ears as the most melodious song. Surrounded by almost a dozen cousins, endless fights, never ending pranks and a big home to run around, my childhood was indeed precious.
coming back home from school, sharing all stories with mom, laughing together
us waqt jhut mhut ka ro dete the maa ko paas bulane k liye ,
ab socha karte hain kya kare ki usko aansu na dikh jaye hmare
What growing up gives is less compared to what it takes away from us. I am travelling the world, wearing my best clothes, eating at best restaurants but all these things mean nothing.
My childhood was so abundantly rich that nothing would ever compensate for that loss.
Weekends were about visiting relatives, family picnics, boating and campaigning. We did not take pictures but those memories are fresh like yesterday. We had one telephone and one television for a family of 30 members. Watching movies together in one room was the real Home Theatre.We laughed together and we cried together.
Festivals were celebrated without uploading pictures on facebook. We did not have to worry about pollution by crackers. We neither had worries of spoiling skin by chemicals in holi colours. Neighbours were Family those days. Life was simple those days.
I am fortunate to be born in the age when social media had not taken up the world. I am also afraid that our children would never experience the grand childhood we had.
Those were the days when I was The Princess. I roamed around the streets, pulled ears of my elder brothers, danced to every song that played but few years later , things started changing. I was told how to sit, how to stand, how to laugh, how to talk and how to walk.
I was growing up and I could not anymore roam around the streets. I had to be responsible, I could not laugh loudly, I had to wear clothes that covered me, I had to smile wryly.
I had to get married and devote my life to a stranger family. They had the right to accept me or reject me but I had no choice. Amidst all these years, pretending to be someone I am not, I became the mask that I wore all the while.
I am nostalgic of things, people and places as they used to be twenty years back.
The old grey house I spent more than twenty years of my life reoccurs in my dreams and calls me back.
The 8-year-old me, who was naive and naughty misses who I used to be.
This Post has been selected as one of the Spicy Saturday Picks by Blogadda 😀