So i wanted to write about this topic since long.....my first encounter with this word was in my"hindi classes"&i realized we all are nostalgic at times
The good old days......the days of childhood,the days of games,the days when we had a crush on our primary school teacher,the days when what mattered was just"who has the larger share of cake"or "the latest toys",the days when getting a "very good"remark on our assignments by the teacher meant the world
" True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories. "so we grow up amid hide &seeks,newer dreams,newer interests,
newer aims which ranged from being the cricket team captain to having that official team dress of the volleyball girls team,newton's laws never invoke so much interest as "whoz having an affair with whom"issues,utterly confused &irritated over the fact that is getting a rank in IIT &PMT is that important than having a "kuch kuch hota hai"type love story....
"Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days.
Nostalgia is a seductive liar "
time passes amid we come to know about a secret that our parents are so uncool","interfering"&theres a hell of"generation gap"n we feel we are the only one on this planet to be so tortured &ruled over,friends become our world,birthday parties most happening days,we plan to bring about a change in system with the plan to include MB &other novels in syllabus rather than those boring subjects
but then whats wrong in going nostalgic if the"good old days"bring a smile on our face ,if an old dress makes me remember the day when i participated in fancy dress as a fairy but when i saw the crowd in front i started crying on stage(:-),nostalgia reminds us of the stupid issues over which we argued,nostalgia presents before us our growth as a person ,as a human being .we live with one foot in past n thats what life is all about
Nostalgia or resignation settles somewhere in my chest
And I can't quite tell the difference any more
Have I given up on you and does it make any difference?
And every day the battle over your potential becomes a war of attrition that I can only lose
Such are the repercussions for falling for a girl only when she reads philosophy
So we become the tryst that should have been but never was
As for nostalgia, there is nothing so pure as the palliative effects of memory
And nothing as safe as escaping into the known, quantifiable world
But how does one remember things they've never seen?
So for now I feel a familiar sense of loss over worlds I've never known
Reassured by historical distance.
The clock has been struck
And beginnings have become
Caterpillar long transformed
And marathons already run
As the crescendo fades into the ether
I deprive myself of the chance to admire what has become and what will never be
No opportunity to wonder at this modern world and no occasion to lament a loss
Before the next set of becomings is heaped upon my back and the task of maintenance sets in
For nothing is ever as sweet as the experience (even in retrospect) of becoming
And so little in this world can ever perpetually become.
And I can't quite tell the difference any more
Have I given up on you and does it make any difference?
And every day the battle over your potential becomes a war of attrition that I can only lose
Such are the repercussions for falling for a girl only when she reads philosophy
So we become the tryst that should have been but never was
As for nostalgia, there is nothing so pure as the palliative effects of memory
And nothing as safe as escaping into the known, quantifiable world
But how does one remember things they've never seen?
So for now I feel a familiar sense of loss over worlds I've never known
Reassured by historical distance.
The clock has been struck
And beginnings have become
Caterpillar long transformed
And marathons already run
As the crescendo fades into the ether
I deprive myself of the chance to admire what has become and what will never be
No opportunity to wonder at this modern world and no occasion to lament a loss
Before the next set of becomings is heaped upon my back and the task of maintenance sets in
For nothing is ever as sweet as the experience (even in retrospect) of becoming
And so little in this world can ever perpetually become.
Won't call you introspective!! :) Beautifully crafted as always. A piece of great value to me as I am addicted to nostalgia like mad... remembering Good ol' days. But it is a luxury & an expensive one. The race in which we have been unwillingly (I speak for myself) pushed into, gives us no such liberty. Anyhow, you can expect a response on this on my blog soon. 'Cause, strangely, even I have a verse written on this. Expecting more such posts from you. Godspeed.
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