Its only been 25 years and still when suddenly the death of beloved forced a rush of ancient memories, their weight felt so heavy on my heart. It has just been 25 years and still the sweet memories of the past can be at the same time pleasing and unpleasant reminder of what I lost as i grew up. The innocence, the joy of small things, the 5 rupee kharchi, the mela's, the matti ka lattoo, the kindergarten parties with sweets and candies. Ah i miss them, and more than that i miss him. My nana, he used to take us to darbar on the annual mela, i remeber the stalls of cheap toys(according to modern day standard :( ), the thrill, the crowd, the energy. The pina on basant and additional funding for buying para's and nakhloa's :`(. The small things that made me so happy. All lost in the mist of time.
Now life is much more complicated, the small things in life no longer give joy. The definition of joy has been changed to something more of a money related thingy, the more money you have the happier you are, um hating this society its norms, its forced influences and the way it has moulded us into something much less humanly. It hurts, it really does. Today i realised what i lost whilst growing up. It aches so bad that i dare not think what load i'd be carrying on my heart in as the years go by. Growing old i find is the toughest thing of all if you think about it. At least i reached this conclusion today.
