Whenever I see this picture, I stop. Whatever the chaos my mind might be wrangling with, I halt. Howsoever my endless hustle could be, I feel numb. Because there is nothing to offer but watch. Drowning in the boundless ocean of recollections, I just stare. Defenseless. Yet unafraid…
This is the place I was made. About eight times out of ten, I would disagree with that statement. Because in only the other two occasions, I see past my shell. I spent close to seven years here; and “seven years in the teens” means a lot more than what the mere number says. Naturally the attachment was immense (it still is, though I might deny it sometimes) and every pixel in that image tells me a story. Every half an inch of it takes me deep into the buried memories. This was the place where writing became my passion, and this was the place I developed most of my strengths. And this is the place most of my talking revolves around.
As I listen to myself, I feel confused as to why I try to run from it most of the time. My hollow argument would be that had I not been there, I would have been a better person socially. Had I not been there, I wouldn’t have missed so many things in my late childhood. Had I not been there, I wouldn’t have been so much of an introvert in so many ways.
But what I tend to forget is the other side of the spectrum that tells me what all I would have missed, had I not been there. Can I assert with an absolute certainty that things wouldn’t have been worse?
That’s funny thing about the past. You can always say that you would have done it differently. But had you done it, would things have been better? You never know. So, it is pointless to be running from it. The best thing to do is to accept it, valuing the better side of things.
What you have now is the best your past could offer. Should you want better, do something today.
Let tomorrow be proud of it!