Meeting an old friend after forty years. The heart felt as if it was on a roller coaster ride. So many memories washed across an ocean of time. Such a feeling of unbeatable joy flamed up the senses. Maybe this is how moments are framed on a spectrum of emotions. The teary pools enveloped us in a time machine.
I passed through many doors over decades to capture those little moments of joy we shared, when we didn't know what friendship was. We were just innocent kids who felt that life was incomplete without each other. The days passed on wings and time stood still in the tiny hands of mischief.
I mostly remember the summer days. Twenty-four hours were not enough to fill the itinerary of things to do. Climbing mango trees, picking up the ripe mangoes, eating them, messing up the clothes, getting spanked by mother for the handprints splashed on the clothes, playing hide and seek, gilli danda, and even marbles. Not to forget the nearby hills to pluck the ripe cashew fruits and pick dropped cashew nuts which were not eaten but used as pawns while playing marbles. Going in search of wild berries like KANDA, BORAH, CHUNNA without any bother about the thorns strewn across the patches of dry leaves.... the list is endless. Then, there were the tempting waters of the village stream. Imagine the gang of young swimmers making a queue from the small bridge to take the plunge and splash with pure joy. Some would have their shorts on and others didn't even bother about them. The world belonged to them. The free-spirited souls. Childhood does not believe in the etiquette of the worldly wise. Nature is the only god.
If I go on writing about all those memories, I would not be able to fill it in a page. The plethora of anecdotes need a huge canvas to pour my feelings and nostalgia into a fitted space.
