“I was reminded of something, an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment, a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever."~ The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I look out of the window and see the mist forming; the weather is just salubrious in namma Bengaluru. I love this place. If I hadn’t met with the accident, S would have been sending pictures of snow to me from the US by now, like he did last year. I have never seen snow in my life, not even been to Darjeeling.
I have memories of childhood, they say memories are selective. I have good memories of those with the siblings, friends in the neighborhood, good memories of mom and us, good memories of me and dad, but, I don’t have any memory of us as a family laughing together. I have some, of us playing Ludo and watching Cricket, Wimbledon together, but beyond those games, I have no memories of pep talk in the family over the dining table, over a cup of tea: mom, dad, and us children, or laughing like nuts over the antics of one of us or a silly joke. 19 years of my life, until I left for Bangalore, and no memory of us having a good time together as a family. Dumb brain!
Perhaps, my views in life have been too idealistic and my brain chose to remember what was worth remembering. Oh yes, it was the year 1989. We came for a South India trip and all of us went to eat chicken biryani, in some restaurant in Chennai. I remember that. I was too young, but we seemed contented. Perhaps, my family was a happy family.