Packing :((

Well, well, what do I say? Not that I know half of the world or something, but the fact that a remarkable majority of the people I know hate packing just reinforces the feeling that I’m normal :D

Now as it happens, our parents always want us kids to be proficient in skills we never deem worthy of knowing in our wildest thoughts, forget mastering them. But every pleasurable trip made to and from home, brings along the agonizing task of packing (or should I call it dumping) all my belongings into bags which are perpetually too small to fit in everything, and almost never light enough to be carried around comfortably. And then ultimatums like “this time you have to do your packing on your own” are just so comforting, they almost want me to take 5 cartons throw everything I need inside and send them by cargo...

But that is easier said than done(as most things in life are) because sadly even on the last day of first year, when I had the satisfaction of having 5 cartons at my disposal, I didn’t have the pleasure of getting them cargoed. Talk about it, I had to lug them all the way down the passage and back again when Mr. Watchman couldn’t find the keys...

The entire process of emptying one’s room is comical in retrospect; although that is one thing I never want to go through again in my life... The last day in my room, was the exact description of a civilized place hit by a cyclone, where dogs, spiders, and a gazillion unidentifiable insects took liberty to keep you company as you rummage through nooks and corners you never knew existed. It becomes more of an ordeal when you have to pack for two people, one of which hasn’t been living in the room for more than 6 months... The spider webs in her cupboard almost reminded me of King Kong’s spiders. And it does far from help your spirit, when a scorpion has been found in your room just a few days before :(

So basically how I got through the ordeal was with the help of a senior and dear friend, who did half of the packing while she was around for a coupla hours. And then did another 25% after a break the poor thing deserved. So I spent my entire energy just doing 25% of my packing, watching her in amazement when she was working, and wondering what to do when she wasn’t there.Now that my holidays are sadly nearing an end, once again I’m faced with the grim prospect of dumping my stuff into two undersized bags, which deceptively look light even after they’re filled till I’m scared either the stuff will spill because the bag will burst open, or it will spill out because I’ll collapse under their weight and they’ll snap open. I have given up all hopes of making such despicable endeavors successful, so I just hope I’m able to complete my job, so I can catch my train in time...

Nostalgia...

I’m not old, in fact I’m still a teen...

But of late, every place I go to, every song I hear, brings back a torrent of memories, mixed emotions and makes me wonder how things change with time, and how some things never change. Every road I take, every building I pass, every place I go, just about everything about my hometown makes me smile.

When we were in school, we never wanted to leave school; now that we’re in college I’m pretty sure none of us wants to leave college either...
Yet, it isn’t the name of my school that I miss, not the infrastructure and definitely not the inane ideas that the school administration kept coming up with to ostensibly “improve” our school.
I made friends in school I still love dearly, and time hasn’t really worn out the sparkle of our laughter or the warmth we generate when we all get together...

I remember coming home every single seething with anger, grumbling to anyone and everyone I met about how the school guys were sadists. But I’ve lost count of how many times the mere thought of school life ultimately getting over brought out a wave of emotion and sadness in me. The thought of separating from my friends and losing touch with them forever is something I haven’t been able to come to terms with till date.
I could’ve cried on every valedictory function I attended, invariably clueless of what my valedictory would be like and what was to become of us in the days to come...

Now that we’re into college, I still don’t see what difference it has made, except for the fact that we spend lesser time together; but I have never valued these moments more...
I think memories are like still water, you can’t touch without creating ripples...I’ve just reached that stage where just about everything creates ripples, some things bring smiles, some tears...
But it is really sad to watch people grow into working devices, when they barely find time for themselves, leave alone friends and family...

It is so depressing to watch relations fade into oblivion, and friendships stretched to the point they cease to exist and turn into no more than acquaintances. No you don’t have to be socialite, far from it actually, because socializing is just not my cup of tea. My friends are my adopted family. All I ask is for people to value whatever relations they have, groom them, nurture them till you never want to let go of them...

This point was driven straight into my soul when I read “Tuesdays with Morrie”. I don’t know how you can read the book without crying, not because you’re sorry for the dying old man, but you are sorry for yourself. Sorry for that part of you which you are so scared to acknowledge for fear of losing yourself in the maze of materialism...
Why do these memories stop building after a point of time, so much so that people actually have to go far down the memory lane to retrieve a handful of faded memories...?

Why can’t we pause a while and appreciate what we value the most? It is what makes our life worth living after all...