Every single time, I visit home that is almost once or twice a year. I always make it a point to dig into my cupboard and look for the things that stay packed for months in my absence… these things that are not ‘useful’ anymore but they are like my carbon datings. Looking back at them, I estimate how far this time did I travel from myself? They remind of the memories I lived, the emotions I felt, the friendships I cherished, and the abundant love ever present around.
To be honest, the calm silences of my mind still appear dreadful to me… And when I look at these old photographs, the lovely memories given by my friends, the dried flowers carefully kept in the books, all of them start making noises, pleasant noises of the past which my mere being loves to dive in and enjoy every single time. They still carry the pleasant aroma of the past, which I like to relive every single time I go through them.
And it’s a sigh of relief to know, that my core is still pretty much the same. It still enjoys the same pleasures and happy moments. Not yet turned foggy in running around aimlessly in this world, it’s a feeling of respite to come back to that same real self.
However ironic it may sound but reliving the past at times deciphers the NOW so beautifully that it gives a new birth, a new hope to me to start afresh this very moment.
So homecoming is always welcome.