The things they do not tell you…

Tonight, I am reminded of the way splotches of yellow light fall from the street bulbs on to the pot-holed roads in the town that will always be home. I think of walking past faceless silouhettes in the night, sleeping buildings and nodding giants, discarded street carts and dozing vehicles that put on masks of bravado during the day. I think of a smile lost in the buzz and the static of neon hoardings and of crooked roads, the momentary recognition of seeing a known face across the road, a half  wave to a rapidly disappearing entity, the topic of conversation for another day when you can start with “I saw you the other day.” Because once there were many other days, because  once life was predictable enough and if you knew someone, there was every chance that your paths would cross again.

I see myself walking, on auto-pilot almost, crossing mud paths and side-stepping overgrown road-sides, my feet in rhythm with the late evening cyclists and the chuga-chug-chug of the 7:30 PM night train as I walked past the scanty collection of children on the steps of neighbourhood grocery shop. I can still walk that way,  my feet – they can see in the dark.  They slow down too when they arrive outside a house where someone always leaves the lights on, where someone always waits for you.

I know the streets around where I am now. I can walk in the dark like I said. But when I get home, I often have to turn the lights on by myself, the house is a petulant friend, looking the other way, not always meeting my eye.

There are things they do not tell you about growing up. There are things they do not tell you because if they did, you would want to be a child forever.


4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rajavel Manoharan (@RajavelMano)
    Apr 12, 2012 @ 21:57:13

    Kya ho gaya ji !

    Sigh ! You kill !


  2. scarlettletters
    Apr 15, 2012 @ 00:14:01

    Some memories, man. They do not die.


  3. Priyamvada
    Apr 25, 2012 @ 10:00:32

    “There are things they do not tell you about growing up. There are things they do not tell you because if they did, you would want to be a child forever.” I hear you, my friend! I so hear you. Innocence is precious…..and, it was a different world.


  4. scarlettletters
    Apr 27, 2012 @ 11:48:13

    So lovely to see you here, again 🙂 I have missed you. It was a different world, hey? We of that time will never be the same again. And boy, it hurts!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: