nostalgia.....

its like a vapour....a gust of wind..spouts from nowhere suddenly n u remember little "sumthings"...and makes u sigh "ah!!! those days"



19 years n 4 months...n pretty much stuff to remember:

1. RAW MANGO TREAT



dusty road...mango trees..loads n loads of them...raw mangoes stooping down low on the branches..

my cousins n me marching with my grand aunt..brave courageous plucking raw mangoes..stuffing in our pockets...

suddenly my bro-"maali aaya maali aaya..BHAGOOOO!!!"

n dey ran..i was about to get set n go....when my grand aunt meakly said---"how can u run away without me??"

i still cant forget all of them scurrying away..n me hooked to the spot, next to my grand aunt[who refused to move let alone run], horrified when the maali asked"where the chor children have gone??"



2: THE DAY I WAS "LOST".....



6 years old..busy n bustling street..8.30 pm....

i was with my mum and then another second, i drifted away into the swarm of ppl..i dont even know what i felt that time..but i certainly wasnt scared[ though my mum was horrified]

i crossed one road..then another...n landed up completely "lost"..one uncle took my hand..led me to my mum[who was dead sure she wont see me again;)] n there i was!!!!!!!gettin all the attention i wanted rite in d middle of d street:):)

3: on the water tank at haridwar:)
the fascination of climbing the ladder and reach atop the tank..perched on the terrace cant be described;) this ashram where me, granny n granddad stayed had this rusty old water tank wid an iron ladder..any opportunity i got n there i was..climbing it peeping inside to see the dark still deep waters...
but my grandad considered this to b a LIFE n DEATH situation...giving me the "dare u ask again" looks...
so when the aarti was on...i seized the opportunity rushed to the terrace.. climbed the ladder..first step..second...third step n about to reach the fourth..n WHACK!!!
aaaaaaaaahhhhh1 my grandad wid a stick..
I WONT CONTINUE:(

4: Ist std..forged signature...

the report card of first std doesnt matter...does it? i wish i knew dat time:(
i neatly scribbled my mum's sign [verrrry unprofessionally]
n my teacher[mrs. gomes who i can never forget] raised her eyebrows..my justification was simple" mum wasnt at home..so......."

the result: mrs.gomes was very unempathetical...she tore my beloved report card into pieces[it contained my masterpiece signature;)]

the result after the result: my poor mum had to accompany me to mrs.gome's house to apologize!! huh! why her house??i sometimes wonder...had the school burnt down????

and i can go on n on...d day when i copied for the first n last time---marathi paper...& my mum prompted the teacher"FAIL HER!!"

funny what nostalgia can do to u...and funny that we dont realise that the time we spend today is going to transform into nostalgia...it ll keep comin back...in vapours...and we'll sit back n sigh...we wont remember our marks[i forgot what i got last sem;)] but what we'll remember is the time we were thrown out of the class..its not the biggies but the tiny miniscule things which give nostalgia its perpetual sweetness....................