After sixteen full years of largely satisfactory existence on this planet, I turn around and look back longingly at some moments, the memories of which have accompanied me throughout this small but significant journey down the road.
It is with this feeling that I sit before the blessed machine(which has been part and parcel of my life for five years, more or less in one piece). There are some people, things who have flashed past your life, rather insignificantly, if not wholly so... Lying on my bed, looking at the bright leaves of the nearby coconut palms swaying in the noon breeze, I suddenly remembered a few lost friends. Most of these are people whom I had not interacted with, or if I had, just for a few minutes. Now, as my fingers flow over the keys, one by one, memories meander towards me, like long drawn notes of a soulful raaga on a violin...
My first railfanning-cum-photography trip - on the Quilon-Sengottai metre gauge line. Once a busy, very important route, it now lies abandoned, covered with weeds, with barely five trains a day, all crawling at an average of 35-40 kmph...yet significant in its own way. We were held up for a crossing at a station - Kottarakkara. I was readying my camera for a good shoot of token-exchange between the incoming train and the station staff. Just then a small, grating voice, "anna, anna.." I looked down the window. A beggar boy clad in a torn shirt, holding out his hand pleadingly. Moved, as I usually am, I was about to ask my mum for a coin or so, when I saw the crossing train approach. I shook off my thoughts and, with all concentration, managed a nice shot of token exchange. After a short time, our train took off. That was when I remembered the boy at the window. Without wasting a second, I opened my mum's bag, took ot a coin and handed it down to the boy, who accepted it greatfully. I helped him in my small way... that was enough for me... I dunno where he is now, I dont know his name. But wherever he is, I hope he is happy.
It was the time I moved to my new house a few miles from the city. I was in the second standard. Playing on the fresh sand that was covering the virgin garden, I found... a snail. After a few days of playing with it and trying to feed it, one day my granny unknowingly swept it out of the compound. I realised this some two days later and, running outside the house and looking for it among the dust lining the base of the compound wall, I saw it being eaten by ants. Heart-broken, I shook the predators off and put it back in the garden. I presume I must have forgotten all about it after a while... but this sunny noon, it just came to me like some ghost of long-ago.
(There some more... but I dont have the time to complete this right away)
There. Insignificant flashes, mere strips out of the big chiunk of life, small and stupid, yet luminous enough to be eternal.