A CUP OF COFFEE AND A LITTLE DRIZZLE
On a rainy night in september in Allahabad, a weather completely rare for the city, when a young romancer might feel lonely, when the breeze is so cool and serene that the tranquilizing effect it has can sooth the most enverate mind, or when the surroundings are filled with gentle music of the water trickling down and the sound of it splashing on the puddles. At these times of euphoric calm when others tend to relax and enjoy mother nature, my mind decieves me by making me think of days of past when I used to return from classes on rainy evenings, and my mom had a plate of pakodas or samosas and a hot cup of tea ready for me. The smell of the rain still remains the same, but what I miss most is feeling of being at home, being safe and knowing that you have people around you who care for you.
When the tiny trinklets of water strike my face as I walk briskly, so that I look as if I am trying to avoid getting wet when I am actually not, I tend to relive the times spent at my home. It rains heavily at my place around august and september so whenever I am presented with a chance to to enjoy the rain I never miss it. The feeling of nostalgia is sometimes so strong that its not only the clouds which are shedding water. I realise at these moments that I might not be able to spend stay at home, and having left home I know that I might not even be able to spend the same amount of time with my parents as I had when I was young. The tiny sparkles of water shining in the light of the nearby street lamp, while falling down from heavens, seem like the the days of my past..long gone but still fresh in my memory..
I think of all this and then I think of my present life, of my friends now, of the people I know, of what I have achieved in last few years, of all that I have lost and I realise that all of it is worth the price the I have paid for it..{especially you my dear BIWI ;) }.I have gained a lot more than I have lost. Last two years of my have been like riding on the fast lane. Things have happened so fast that even before I realised it I was a changed person. All this for my own good and for the good of people who know me. I do miss home often but I have grown accustomed to it. Getting used to pain just makes it a lot more easy to bear rather than crying it out. At last I realise that home is a mere misnomer, its how you live your life that matters. We are all nomads, it is not in our rule book to dwell at one place...
You might think of me as a retrospective nerd sermonising on things far above my station, but its just the way I feel.
And can you imagine that I thought of all this with a cup of hot coffee in my hand.. ;)
