It has been 10 years since I wrote that piece in a moment of anguish and shock. Ten years passed by, bringing in more and more dystopian visions of the future curtailment of liberties, heavy-handed government, needless wars, suffering of the innocence, self-censoring of the press, and untold missed opportunities for golden future.
In the last ten years too, lot of things have changed. I moved farther and farther away from my childhood as it receded slowly from memory. First to go is the poetry. None of the old memories the rains, the stars, the morning walks to the animal yard, the idle cards players in the library seep into the semi-conscious morning. Instead of feeling the lyrics of the songs, now I merely listen to them.
Simply put: life goes on. We get used to things that we never understood. We take off shoes silently, paying the homage to TSA Gods and proceed to the altar of the winged machines. Does it remind me of my temple going days? Did I take of my shoes in quiet obedience then? I don’t recall that 10 year old person — did he understand the nature of the God? Did he marvel at mornings and evenings? Did he stare at the stars to brand that image into the brain forever? What did he think of the world?
As memories fade away, I lose a bit of myself. I forget the excitement of the first day of school, earnestness of skipping the water puddles on the roads, first flush of youth, the sweet anticipation of exam results, and fateful farewell from the familiar.
Then, in forgetting those old memories, we make new ones. I suppose these memories are too static, stealing a moment of contentment from everyday life, or a happiness shared. It is not the same as exploring the world with wondering eyes — none of the childhood stuff.
Perhaps these new memories are not so far back as yet to romanticize. Perhaps I need to age before I look back wistfully at the mundane routine of meeting with friends in Farmington library, or taking the kids to ice-skating on a snowy morning in Michigan.
Till then, I will try to hang onto my old memories a bit longer, thank you.