Sitting on my porch waiting for the pregnant clouds to push the rain out, oh such a nice picture. But it is the map(literally) in my hands, the places-to-go on my mind and the stops that I make that give me a purpose to it all. With all that lucky feeling inside, I’ve very nearly no regrets in life so far. But the few that I write below must be the only ones, but I like them. They’re the stops I missed while I fell into a slumber and keep reminding me to sit up, keep my wits ever so sharp and watch out for exciting turns!
I regret outgrowing a few things. Dad used to carry me n walk until I was in 4th standard(I was a thin kid, then). And I loved it that I could smell his hair. In all those frightening moments, I could hug him like I’d hug a never-to-budge-rock that he is. While he watched news on TV with all seriousness, I could sit beside him and note all those features on his hands until he’d affectionately yell – “What’re you doing?”. That I could be endlessly hover around him while he made crispy ghee dosas . Lie next to my mother while she sang to me, wrapped in the free end of her saree to feel safe. The love of one’s parents is the one absolute version of it and I feel full of regret to have outgrown it. To the point that I perhaps don’t need it any more. What a pity, indeed. But then, perhaps it isn’t meant to be drawn out of for ever, nor returned. May be meant to be passed on. I think I am going to spoil my prodigies!
Dad used to wake up early and make breakfast for me and send me off to school. HE would carry my bag all the way till the bus stop. After he’d drop me off he would, he’d come back, put his feet up on the coffee table, slouch on his couch reading the newspaper! And I wanted to be my dad then! Wondering if kings had it any better :p. I dont seem to have time at all! The only time I get to read the newspaper is while I am waiting at some place. At the tailor, the dentist and the likes.
The other last regret is also the much bigger version of the tiny little bit of jealousy I feel towards all those people who have serious hobbies that they’ve nurtured for all their lives. Some of my friends can play instruments, some paint, some do sports and some create endless nice things from nothing. I see such serious indulgence in things of interest to be one additional layer to one’s personality that I so regret not having. Probably the last of the layers when one’s denuded of all others; the one that lets you gracefully and self-assuredly use your time even when everything else is a little dud. I hope reading counts :p! And then, perhaps I should start singing more!
See how nice it is to have regrets and also the remedies to it? :-).
Its raining now!