Nostalgia

I woke up with a start. I sat trembling as flashes of my nightmare came back to me. I could still feel my heart pounding from being chased. I had no memory of whom or what I was running from as always. This was my recurring nightmare which had become very frequent of late. My phone’s ringing alarm broke my trance. It was 5:30 am. I brushed, wore my running shoes and rushed to our usual meeting spot to wait for her. “You are always late” I elbowed her teasingly once she came. “No, you are always early!”, she said defensively and started jogging. 

We jogged side by side in comfortable silence for a while and then slowed down when we reached our favourite lane. This lane had a set of beautiful houses we would always pause to admire. We would discuss its architecture, the colours that made them feel ancient and the lives they housed. Then we would make up stories of our own with characters we imagined to live in these beautiful buildings. One of us would narrate a story with thoughts that troubled our minds, and the other would read between the lines and complete the story on a good note (Mostly a humorous one). My favourite story was one with the neon clothed ghost hiding in the haunted bungalow at the end of the road. We had even tried to break into that house once. But someone inside (or the neon ghost from her imagination) switched on lights in the attic, and we ran. Usually, by the time we finish our stories, we would reach The Thinking Spot. A bench at one end of the lake which had plenty of ducks around to keep us company.

Today, as soon as we reached there, she asked, “So nightmare again?”. I shrugged and tried to change the topic. This was one thing she could not make me feel better about. She knew it too. But she would still try her best to help me. I just didn’t want her to feel bad when she failed so I would dodge the topic or talk to her in riddles about it until she got annoyed and gave up on me for the time being. 

I said, “I am going to tell you this very immature and stupid thought I believed in as a kid. Promise not to tease me about it if I tell you what it is!”. She said “I promise!” with a twinkle in her eyes. I motioned at the tree branches above us and told her to focus on the light that shone from in between its leaves. “So, when I looked at the stars at night, I always thought that the night sky was like a blanket with holes, like the tree here, blocking the source of light that shone as stars! I used to dream of proving this as a fact to the world someday and getting appreciated for it”, I said sheepishly. She gave it a thought and said, “That’s such a deep thought for a kid. I think this analogy will always stay with me, you know? I’ll be reminded of you whenever I see the light making its way from in between the leaves.” That reminded me of the fact that I’ll be leaving soon. I would always avoid that topic, but somehow she would still bring it up in between conversations making it impossible to dodge. She felt we would drift apart when I leave for college. I would be hundreds of miles away, and we won’t stay the same. But I always thought that the fact that we will change doesn’t necessarily imply that the bond we share will be lost! She looked at me as though she knew what I was thinking. She started laughing to lighten the mood and said, “You should have published your epiphany, you know? You might have won the noble prize for it!”. I gave her the kill stare and screamed, “You promised!!!”. She laughed more, showed her crossed fingers and started running. I chased her until we both ran out of breath and started laughing together. Little did we know then, that what she always feared, is how we indeed ended up.

Nostalgia is an intricate blend of emotions. So delicate. Yet so very potent. In Greek, nostalgia literally means “the pain from an old wound”. It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than a memory lane – a feeling of a place you ache to visit again…

Its been almost five years now and I still remember every small detail of that day. I sometimes wish I had a time machine; Not because I want to change anything. But because I want to relive these small treasured moments of my life. At least reliving it might mellow down this feeling of a hollow absence I carry myself around with. The absence of that one person who knew everything from my daydreams to my nightmares.