Memories and ramblings . . . . . .

View outside my window

I wasn’t getting any sleep yesterday night. It had nothing to do with stress or tension. Just that sometimes your body doesn’t need rest. And why would it? I hardly do anything other than tapping at a keyboard! So, I had to do something.  Write? Read? Watch movies? Paint? Too much hard work. I decided to just think. But then, the thought of thinking about big things put a lot of stress on me. So, finally I nestled into reflecting back on my past. 27 years is too much data to process and so I decided to concentrate only on the highlights from my high school times to now.

The memories are hazy in some parts and crystal clear in others. Some have mixed up so I can’t remember which happened when. So many events, so many people. So many good and bad times. The times I thought were the best in my life, have been superseded by so many more best times, that the word best loses its meaning. The worse times also don’t seem that bad anymore. Slowly, one by one, memories come to me. Little games like ‘truth or dare’; me, always selecting ‘Dare’ over ‘Truth’. Not that I had anything to hide, but the truth questions were stupid and boring. And the gossips and teenage girly bitching sessions. Falling in love, and doing the most crazy, stupid things that only teenage love can make you do. Laughing over spilt tea and the tail of a cow with my best friend. In the summers,  lying down on the back and holding a popsicle over our mouths and waiting for it to melt and drip on our lips. Every little thing would warrant a fit of giggling. Well, it doesn’t make any sense now, but it did then with her. Still gets me giggling.

By now you must be thinking why am I rambling. Well, my thoughts were random and incoherent and hence the content of this post.  And with a request for patience, I will babble a bit more.

I remember the playing of cards in the hostel; only four could play at a time and the seats were coveted. So, all the cell phones would be piled up in the no-network area, so that boyfriends or relatives do not disturb between the important games. The running around the hostel corridors to save oneself from the mock molestation by the others in our gang. Trying to cook noodles with the tiny electric immersion rods, which always turned out half-cooked and watery. The blowing up of the fuse, while experimenting with these cooking stunts and the resultant batch punishments. Playing box cricket in office when guys used to wait for the girls to bowl or bat. The memories come haphazardly. Some here, some there.

Each year has seen a very good friend, a gang of close friends and that one guy who likes me. I’m bragging! The ‘guy who likes me’ didn’t happen each year, maybe just a couple of years in college. There have been so many good times, most of them over tea, bitching about someone or bragging about ourselves. Discussions and gossips about other girls, guys and teachers when in school and college. Complaints and gossips about girls, guys and managers when in office. Arguments ranging from politics, astrology and paranormal stuff to romance, movies and books, the list is endless.

Looks like I spent most of my life gossiping. Well, what can I say, I love to talk. Not for nothing, that I used to get a ‘talkative’ comment each year on my report card in school. I digress…..again! I should conclude my jabbering speech now.

I sat there in the dark at 1 AM in the night, looking out the window and staring at the trees and the tiny river, not actually seeing them. I marveled at the rich content of my life, the journey until now and the scores of people who have made up the bits of my life.  So many people I learnt from. So many people I took advice from and many more I gave advice to.  So many people affected my decisions thereby affecting the course of my life. So many people inspired me and so many repelled me. The places, the towns and the cities don’t matter, they are all the same. Only people matter. They all made me what I am today. But the most surprising revelation was that these people who, at those times, felt like the closest people in the world and couldn’t be done without, are mostly conveniently forgotten now.