THE DELUGE...

Today was unlike any other day in my life. Today was special. Today, I felt the pangs of nostalgia strike me once again, only this time, of an immeasurable magnitude. The day began with the newspaper, a cup of Bournvita and instructions from amma to clean up my room. I had books strewn all around me. The clutter. The chaos. Was all this a reflection of my mind? I couldn’t answer for a feeling of being suffocated set in. Music can heal this mess, I presumed. With my PC playing songs from the movie ‘Swades’, I began with the intention of discarding unnecessary books and papers. The mistake that I made, ‘fortunately’, was that I had not defined the concept ‘unnecessary’.

Among the rubble were my LKG and UKG progress reports. My standard one report too – 497/500 yet I had managed only a Fifth rank! No way I should discard these, I convinced myself. Couple of note books followed – standard seven Geography and standard nine Hindi. I caressed those pages, hoping to revive a few fond memories. By my side were Physics texts – ninth, tenth, PUC and my favourite – Resnick, Walker and Halliday. “I lived and loved them all. Please amma, don’t force me to dispose them.”

“Fine… But of what use are these GK books now, when everything is available over the internet?” Amma was determined to make me part with half of my treasure as much as I was to safeguard them. “Appa got these from Delhi, more than 15years ago. These would stay.”

I had constructed a tower of Competition Success Reviews, Wisdoms, Chandamamas, Amar Chitra Kathas and Panchatantras. “My kids would read these,” I told amma.

“And all these books on the Bhagavad Gita?”

“Those I would read when I find time...”

“Hmm... Do what you want.” Amma knew and I did too, that not a square inch of paper was going to make it to the bin. She left me, while I sat waiting for the deluge of memories to flood my mind.

I flipped through the pages of my B.Sc Physics practical observation notebook – Newton’s Rings, Biprism, Ballistic Galvanometer... and my heart grew heavier. The calculations, the amount of time spent on them, the manipulated results... Shut them out, shut them out... I screamed. I closed the book and then, my eyes, waiting for the accustomed slide show of my college days. They whizzed past me, in rapid succession – the wooden stairs, giggling girls, basket ball court, noodles pakkoda... And I saw myself, singing ‘Yunhi chala chal’ with my friends... Friends, who had been by my side only yesterday and gone in different directions today… and perhaps never to meet again... The smell of wet mud, the parched earth, the hugs, the warmth, the mirth, the fun... All lost in time...

The rustle of a gift-wrapper brought me out of my séance. “To a lovely guide and philosopher,” read the card on the cover. I stared at it. The ice-breaker, the first SMS, the summer course – images crashed in. ‘Yeh jo des hai tera’ played mildly in the background. “The song makes me want to go back to where I belong – my land, my people,” I heard him say. “It’s a calling, I can feel it.” And within a few months, he left. “Do you still think of the incidents that unfolded 2-3 years back?” I asked him one day over email. His reply shook me violently, “Don’t remind me of my past...”

“Don’t remind me of my past...” I heard myself say today. “Don’t remind me...” A cold wave swept over my body, snapping me out of my reverie.

I held tightly the wrapper and observation book. “Amma, Ranjith would be appearing for Board exams this year. Handover my Physics texts to him. He'd need these more than I do... And the rest...will stay...”