“I wish there was a way to know you're in"the good old days" before you've actually left them”
That was Andy Bernard from The Office, putting into words something we’ve all felt at some point in time.
I had always wanted to be an adult, a grown-up who can do whatever they please, whenever they please. And when I did finally start living on my own, I was ecstatic. Had made it in life…living the dream. And yes, it was everything that I had hoped for.
But there were also days when all I wanted was to read books and for my mom to call out from the kitchen to say that lunch was ready. To dig into a plate of rice and chicken curry, that was, most importantly, not cooked by me, and then settle down for an afternoon nap. Only to be woken up by my dad with a cup of coffee that had too much milk. Days when I wanted to walk back in time to a Sunday afternoon at home.
I remember book fair days in Guwahati. Couldn’t wait to go there and get lost in the stalls, pick up the books, read the blurbs, and decide that I wanted them. Every single one of them. And then having to make tough choices because my parents would, of course, not buy me all of them. It would make me wish I had my own money and didn’t have to choose. But that longing would quickly be replaced with a desire to get home as soon as possible and dive into the three books that I finally bought.
And now, I have two bookshelves. I have spent one glorious evening setting them up and trying to arrange my books in some sort of intelligent organization system. But what surprises me most is that I have a full bookshelf just for the books that I haven’t read yet. 15-year old me would be appalled at that! How could I have books and not have devoured them?
Well, turns out I do have my own money now. I can drop into bookstores, browse, and pick the titles I want. I don’t have to choose. But what I don’t have is time. Not the kind of time that I would have in school or college. And when I do have the time, I find my mind drifting, my fingers reaching out for the phone far too often, and an inability to just be content in the moment and concentrate. Sounds familiar or is it just me?
Every time I look at my phone gallery, I realize this all over again. I see a photo I must have clicked, and I can recall nothing about it….how I saw it, how I felt when I saw it…..all I have is the picture, and none of the emotions. Like I was too busy framing it to really experience it.
I am not saying the pictures are not important, they capture the beauty and the joy. It is lovely to scroll through and find a picture that reminds you of something you hadn’t thought about, off late. But just the fact that I can click a picture any time, that I have so many of them saved on my phone that I never get back to, makes me think. Am I too caught up capturing moments for the future that I skip over enjoying the moment while I am in it?
Is this why I will never realize I am in the “good old days” while I am in them?
I am sure this is just how it’s meant to be….it’s something inevitable called “the human condition”, to have this longing and regret for never being able to experience the past. Nevertheless, seems rather unfair don't you think?
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