Rumblings of Yesteryears

      

A new pen, correction, a new fountain pen rolling over an old piece of paper, which happens to be an old diary. You have to do it, to feel the pleasure. Recently I was gifted a fountain pen by my loving husband and as it coincided with his birthday it assumed the status of ‘Return Gift’. My love for fountain pens dates back to my school days and somehow the rosy splendour of writing diary. Being a diarist, preserving expressions on this immortal piece of paper was the most rapacious and never satisfied part of me. So revisiting the yesteryears through an old diary, takes one down the foggy memory lane and makes relive the obscure moments. As I open this oldest diary in possession the page here dates 7/8 April and the year printed as 1994. Wow! as I write on this old memoir,  I am exhilarated and taken back to the nostalgic times where I see myself as an fifteen year old, that year on this day.  Here I bring you the excerpts of some old musings etched on this faded lines.

03^rd Mar 94

I stand still, finding my pathway to peace

Dreaming of golden moments in a tranquil sea

When my heart will be filled with compassion

And when I’ll be really passionate about passion

I know you’ll be surprised. A fifteen year old talking of tranquility and peace but that was just a phase. Being raised in a strictly disciplinarian family, asceticism came naturally to me and that’s kind of okay but what went wrong was I was, may be too strained of that environment and felt scrupulously drained of emotions which was certainly not okay for a girl of that age. But as it is said, the onset of youth characterized by sweet sixteen for a girl’s age, bring changes which can be unfathomable at times…

10^th Aug

To my dreams,

You look so radiant as never before

Drenched in a snow white glow as never before

I am blushing again as he adores

I am deep in love, tells me my core

Now does this require any explanation? I mean the transformation of thoughts. Alright let’s leave that aside and talk about the realization of love for one aged at sixteen. I guess most of us part of the sated generation have indelible memories of our first crush, Love I won’t say now. Down with the love fever I write again

13^th Aug

Love is my strength when I am weak

Love is my voice when I can’t speak

Love is my sight when I can’t see

Love is the best I have in me

My world is better as I have love with me

The red blushing face, drenched in love fervor of a young girl of this age attracts attention instantly.  The dancing hairs, sparkling eyes, the warmth of the crimsoning cheek, the effervescent smile, they speak it all. I continued to be in a world of my own which is so full of magical emotions of passion, romance, tenderness and joy.

03^rd Nov

‘O No! Not again’ she cries

An ecstasy was finished

She tried to resist but in a mist

A soul is frayed and it is repeated of late

Same agony prevails as it is aggravate

She rises up and falls down

To thousand chains when she is bound

Pathetic she lies, indolent she lies

Is that the way she dies?

‘No-No’ she cries again

But is she the same?

Uncannily she rises to tear the spell

Abated she rises to abate the hell

Nativity is reenacted but this time as hatred

Tintinnabulations fill the air

And tell the world ‘Be aware’

Agony is born and the disaster is on

To fill in the gaps, I had a ‘Black’ day in my life when sanctity of my body and soul was attempted. I was lucky for having escaped the situation with little hurt but it left me in a traumatic state. The stigma of having touched and forced upon stays with me even today. Though the magnitude of violation of my holiness was nothing as compared to what we often see these days, I am filled with sense of outrage when I see myself so enveloped with such issues almost everyday. Being aware of such crimes increasing in the society, I feel I have an important role to play, as i am a mother of two sons and its my moral duty to groom my sons to respect the being of a woman. I have a task at hand to educate them so that not just they grow as sensitive human beings but also spread their values for the wellness of the world. Let us groom our sons before teaching other's daughters what to wear and how to behave.

A diary is full of so many colours as it reflects life and its vividness. Try and preserve your times, good or bad, to enjoy your today even tomorrow.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Write Over the Weekend theme for this week

This week your post should have five different colours acting as adjectives for five important words, around which your write-up revolves.