Tag Archives: nostalgia

Traveling Isn’t Just About Seeing Places…

It’s about nurturing memories. 

I love every aspect of the process. The idea, the planning, the anticipation, the getting there, the realization you are there. The sound of unfamiliar tongues, the excitement, the anxious confusion–Where to go, What to do? The myriad choices and lack of time. Always the lack of time. The flavor of the food, the hubbub on the streets, so on and so forth.

But what I like the best are the wistful recollections once I get back.

Were you surprised by the crowds on the Paris streets? 

Yes! And that they smoked. All of them!

And they were all so smartly dressed. Just like we’d heard and read. 

And remember the guy with the mustache while we were waiting in line to get into Notre Dame?

It felt surreal like I was watching a movie or something.  He was a handsome dude. I couldn’t stop staring. He must’ve felt embarrassed. 

Doubt it. It looked like he was enjoying the attention.

And Notre Dame– what an awe inspiring experience! Climbing the spiral staircase was a test of stamina, both mental and physical. 

Rodin was something else though. That guy is… ahem! 

I lost count on how many Caprese sandwiches we ate in Italy. So many I almost got sick. But the cappuccino and gelato! Couldn’t get enough. But then we had to buy the water! Can you believe it?

Yeah, but then we got to climb the tower in Pisa. 

I was trying to keep a straight face while looking at David and the other sculptures at the Uffizi. 

The Belgian waffles tasted so good. Because it wasn’t a DIY

Do you remember the seagull scavenging for ice cream?

And the not so scenic drive to Palomar but the Hale Telescope was awesome!

Keepsakes for Old Age

I’m not old, I think. Not yet. But I’m getting there. Everyone is getting there. Maybe I’m a little ahead in the line because I’m thinking about it. About getting old. 

Am I sad? Not really. Maybe, just a little disappointed. Because I really didn’t have much of a youth. Because I spent most of it preparing for the future– for getting old. 

I don’t think I’m old because I’m still a productive member of society. People still seek my opinion and try to take it seriously (I hope). My opinion still counts for something. I’m not just someone to be tolerated. But then what is ‘old’? It is a state of mind. Because there are people who are old in their youth and others who are young when they are old.

I think I’m at the best time of my life. There is still a skip in my step and I’m not preoccupied with the condition of my joints. I still get excited to see new things, experience new places.

I don’t have any regrets. I’ve dealt with them all. In fact, I’ve dealt with them so well I don’t even recall what they were.  My desires are limited to traveling, reading, assimilating new ideas, and perhaps guiding others to live a better, more informed life. I’ve reconciled with my ambitions and disappointments.

But a day will come when I won’t matter any more; my opinions will be just that–opinions. So, I’m collecting keepsakes. Little memories– that’ll keep me company and help me pass the time. It could be anything– like the flavor of something delicious– from a long time ago–that perhaps I’d never get the chance to taste again. It could be a bird call; a chance conversation with a stranger; timeless streets through which I walked and walked but wasn’t afraid of getting lost because I had wonderful company. It could be the brilliant blue of the sky, the soothing silence of the forest, the dust on my shoes as I embarked eagerly on a different trail.

I hope that time will be short. I hope I won’t become bitter. I hope when you think of me it’ll be with a smile.

Monsoon (Baarish)

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Poinsettias in rain by Simi K. Rao

Drenched in refreshing moisture, earth bursts into colorful melody-

                                                                                                Simi K. Rao

Monsoon in India is a special time. The overcast black skies, the drumroll of thunder, invoke the thrill of anticipation in the thirsty heart. This is then fulfilled by the downpour. And what a downpour it is!

Extending from June- September, the monsoon brings welcome relief from the stifling heat of the summer. The happiness is visible not just on the faces of the citizens but also on the parched earth– the fragrance of the soil, the blossoming of the vegetation, the songs of the cuckoo, the dance of the peacock.

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