Leaving Home...

Spending the last night in the old flat, I don’t get sleep. It all comes back to me. There’s so much more to this place than just a house. This is the place where I grew up, literally in height and also whatever I could, mentally and emotionally.
It feels like just yesterday I entered this flat and a certain neighbour from the building got us tea and biscuits.

I remember getting ready for school early every day so that I could spend time on the bus stop with my building friends.

I remember learning car driving from dad and being able to park it correctly for the first time.

I remember playing cards with friends till midnight and my grandmother getting a culture shock for girls were included.

I remember the times when I used to take the cordless phone to the balcony quietly so that no one would hear me talking on the phone.

I remember sitting on the swing on the terrace and singing songs with friends, trying to save ourselves from water while it poured heavily.

I remember my first ever bike accident occuring against my own brother in the parking lot since I was waving to someone while riding.

I remember taking my new walkman and showing off around the building when the power went off.

I remember bunking school to watch Dil Chahta Hai first day first show with cousins.

I remember sticking dirty Big Babol tattoos on a particular aunty’s Maruti 800 because we all hated her so much since she wouldn’t let us play.

I remember the time I asked my brother something so stupid he actually fell on the floor and laughed for good ten minutes.

I remember we purchasing a Samsung flat screen TV and all the relatives coming home to see it because that was the in thing that time.

I remember mom waking me up atleast five times every morning for school and then herself going back to sleep, and then me waking her up to make me breakfast.

Gazing through the flat, there’s some incident or some association with each corner and each window..

As I stand at the door of the empty house, I want to hug each pillar. But life isn’t as dramatic and I’m too conscious to make myself look stupid in front of the new owners of the house.

There are people who bring life into your lives. And then there are places where these memories are shaped up. Now it’s time for a new family to start their memories here. And for me to look for new walls to form memories within...