The day came and went as quickly as any other day. The so-called butteflies died way before they had their effect, and the evening flew past as quickly as a tomorrow that converts itself into yesterday. I was exhausted, partly due to the running around - in the exact sense of the word - and partially due to a diminishing level of stamina that I have begun to possess.
I was satisfied. Deep down, I was happy. More than four years had been a long time. I would be lying if I said that I had waited for this day for all those four years, but there is no doubt in my mind that ever since the major troubles had erupted last March, I couldnt have dreamt about anything.
For all the different sets of people around on the day, I thought I was unusually calm from within. I had worried a little a day earlier because I loathe crowds - I usually hated giving presentations in college as well - but in the end, it had passed off miraculously well. In fact, I do not recollect most of the things, such was the daze - and hence the haze - that I was in.
As I write this, on a coolish Mumbai night, as the clock ticks another second, inching its way to 1 a.m., I cannot help but feel a little nostalgic. In fact, today's incidents have left me in a rather pot-pourrish-state; extremely happy for someone, puzzled by something, sad due to another, and to an extent, irritated by something else.
Yet, the reasons gel to leave me thinking of turning back the time, and changing a few things here and there. And yet again, I do not want to. I want to just look back, and wonder and ponder.
I would give anything to sit next to the bus-stop in front of Lacoste. For once. For a month.
I would give anything to have been away from people I shouldnt have met in the first place.
I would give anything to smell a friend's lawn's mud, where we spent an hour every month.
I love this tingling sensation that I feel right now. Nostalgic hits me hard, and well.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
5th November, 2008 and more...
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