Novalgia

It is raining heavily in Cambridge. The water drops running
down the glass pane took me down the memory lane.

Playing in rain and going to school with murky dirty clothes. Telling a very innocent excuse to the teacher that
a ghost chased me down the road. Then when the teacher clarifies: “Ghost? “.Understanding it will be tough to prove my case promptly rephrasing it as ‘something like ghost’
Forgetting yesterday’s ‘cutties’ (a no speak ceasefire between the children) and
telling my best friend that I feel cold and ask him:” shall I sit closer to you?” and then feeling the warmth of friendship.
Showing him the precious little rabbit rubber (eraser to be technically correct) that some relative has brought from Dubai. And
watching the glee in his eyes when I let him hold that. To clap and laugh when a girl who teased me last week, slipped and fell down.
Shamelessly playing ‘cherippu cricket’ (where cricket bat will be a slipper and ball will be made of paper and stumps-‘three lines on the wall’)
inside the classroom away from the prying eyes of sisters(nun teachers who works in convent schools who are notorious for the punishments they offer to kids)
All this happened yesterday…or did they happen some days before???
I vividly remember getting wet in rain while my friend failed miserably to set fire to the funeral pyre of his father. Death was just a long vacation then.
And birth the arrival of a new toy to play with. I hardly knew complex things so I cried for small little things and laughed profusely for silly happenings. Now I have grown older so has my indifference.
Now I understand maturity is just a euphemism for indifference. Why all these crap….??? Never had this nostalgic feeling and all…phew….anyway….I can only ignore them but I can’t deny their existence.
Clock is ticking and the roads are narrowing down…either I need to settle down and set a tea shop on the road side catering the ones who are moving ahead or I should discover the inquisitive child inside me again.