From Life To Me

Comfortably Numb

So, like I said in some older post, we recently shifted house. Now you KNOW what that means..unpacking.! Just picture this- a room full of boxes, insects and dust and you, a lone soldier armed with just a knife..depressing no? But I found it fun to unpack the things I grew up with and to put them in their places again..maybe I'm used to it and that's why I enjoy it..it is good to change after all!

But this post isn't bout that..and what I've just blabbered was to get you to keep going..so onward..!

While I was unpacking, I came across a book by Enid Blyton entitled Treasure Trove. The reason why it struck a chord was coz it was the first book I ever read..and the first bit of education I had, courtesy my mum. I assure you I wasted no time in triumphantly clearing a section of my bed, casting a furtive glance to ensure that I was alone and then gently slipping into that tome..and it broke my heart to see the state it was in..dust poured out of it and some sort of fungus was stuck to it But, the print was intact and so was the nostalgia...the message on it in mums handwriting, the spex that came the next day and then just slipping into it..gently..and unconsciously letting it lift me higher and make me fly...that's what magic is...how a simple event can turn time back by decades..suddenly I was six again..

Forgive me, I'm ranting..but then again what else can one do? Don't you feel somewhat excited when you find something you thought was gone? As I was reading, my childhood returned..my first spex, the first golguppa I had, sitting n enjoying a cuppa joe that I made meself, the first piece I wrote for the school's mag..those few minutes brought back ALL of that and more..just like Potter's Pensive

Have you guys read "The 3rd Level"? That story's bout an escape..into a world without boundaries, where you can breathe..that’s kind of the feeling I got..I could compare it with Neruda's "Keeping Quiet", just standing and breathing quietly..

And unavoidably, I started to think of the stuff I have lost..the fights, the pens, the assorted books or other meaningless junk and the people..and it created an interstice in me..and I'm trying to fill it by turning to music, or to writing..it's why I'm writing this now..I just lost someone whom I havent met much, but whose memories are "right here" as ET said...

And I’m thinking of Fix You by Coldplay..

“Tears come streaming down your face,

when you lose something you can't replace..”

Only, I want to, but I can't cry...

But perhaps a more appropriate quote is the last para of To Kill a Mockingbird-

“Neighbours bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbour. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good luck pennies and our lives. But neighbours give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took from it, and it made me sad.”

I dunno why I'm writing this, maybe I too just wanna find the 3rd level of the Grand Central...it's something I can’t explain...forgive me, and permit me to take your leave...