Chin up! (part1)

As I age further away from my childhood, just like every mortal being, towards the inevitable death, I stand here with an utter awe. Gazing over the surfaces of my memories.

Both enchanted and repelled by sheer variety of them.

In the reminiscence, I walk alongside the strings, touching them with the tip of my fingers. There I see myself as a life abundant with emotions and tremendous passion.

I am happy in some and in others I am sad.

Few had me lying on the ground bruised and in few others, I have bruised strangers.

Oh, here, I could have been died, but I was saved. Saved by the few souls of god, I have in my life.

And then I reached at the tip of the string, a memory of now. Hatched moments ago.

A memory of refusal. A remembrance of holding the breath for a word. A recollection of seconds that changed the understanding of world for me.

And as I breathed again, I ended up emptying my lungs, without uttering a word. The refusal took away my boyishness.

And as I laid down the conversation, I smiled. Ear to ear!

Couldn’t help it.  I was supposed to be sad, but just couldn’t.

I picked my phone up and dialed to all the ones I love! Immediately!

First, My Mom. The Lady. Her graceful eyes and warm smile. I could feel her close to me as she said hello. The sweetest hello! Those dimples over her cheeks with every spreading inch of smile whenever she hears her son’s voice.

Then Father. The real man of steel in my life. With his sturdy voice, he asks the same questions, untiringly. Inquiring for my well being. An entrepreneur, who declares his children as his greatest assets out of all the wealth, name, fame and his possessions.

My stupid little brother. His shaggy hair and baggy shirts. My first ever responsibility and first ever proof that, duties aren’t burdensome just on their own.  My brother! He and his hypnotic, intoxicating stories, which starts from the backyard, and flies over to the moon. Making landings on bare palms. My opposite, as people calls him and I guess, that's what makes an awesome duo.

Then, my sis, the keeper of my secrets. Her endless college stories always  made me curious. Her friends, few bitchy, few nice. Some trustworthy and others, just a passing moment. My ever cherished listener. Being honest around her is a must.

Then, my ever well wisher. My uncle. With his words of wisdom and sharp observations, he mesmerizes my imaginations. Few white strands of hair, are well deserved for the experience he possess. . He makes me wonder at my own ignorance many times. Generation Gap! Na, I found all personalities in him  The critique, The motivator and healer.

And, of course, the one who refused. The source code. The one who inspired me. Made me aware of so many different shades of me. Helped me to understand the value of human relations. Filled me up with so much joy to take the leap of faith. The one who was always there. During the interviews and unsafe pillion seat rides to the drowsy days of moving on and breezy evenings of lazy seating. The Saggi. My ever treasured reader. The precious critique.    

I can talk to them again and  again, fight with them. Agree and disagree. Get angry or feel sorry.
In the end. I guess, I just feel blessed!
My  richness!