An Eye on Memories

On the west of this country, a small village resides with its own family, on those roads to the countryside there lies memories where parking car and drinking grape juice at its bonnet is just a normal hang out, we have been grown with this kind of luxury where love is the only wine we could afford for curlicue, I miss those days, I miss when me and my best friends went for a bicycle ride and played roles of famous cartoon series, endless fights over why I always choose the best ones and makeover over a chocolate, when friendship days needed a month prior planning to engage for the colorful bands and how just THAT one shop always had our favorite choices, and how we always told them which one we loved the most and how we told them that they should not buy it because we like it and how on that day they brought us the same damn thing(everyone) with the grin of surprise and how we always knew this will happen and how we prayed for it.
Childhood is innocent and with endless memories, sometimes these memories are hard to recall, sometimes we are not in the condition to accept those memories, sometimes we don’t want to recall them at all because we fear that they will vanish with remembrance and as if they are volatile and sublime.
Reclining on the memories introduced via a song is far better medicine than the painful heart reminding us of the smell and the touch it used to.
There is a little gap between knowing and ignoring the fact of miscommunication,things have ,(better), changed after the introduction of a communication channel between, it seems simple to text or share but it is way more difficult to explain and understand.
I miss those days when just a smile solved everything and meeting someone ended with a hug or a punch resolving everything.
Perhaps things are same, maybe everything is, must be the Time.
What do we really miss?
Nothing, we are not used to changes, we hate growing up and adapting changes, we change with changes so that it does not sound awkward to be in that ‘change’.


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