Reflections from my trip to india

Memories are notoriously fickle. 

I found myself revisiting some during my trip to India and clinging to the space of what & how it used to be. The air dripped with nostalgia took a darker turn & brought me dangerously close to a realization.

Every nook, every characteristic, every smile of the people I knew felt out of place. The emotions felt different, the words meant different things than it did before. Or maybe, I was the one who was out of place.

As I spent the days there living in the echo of the intimacy once shared between friends, that easy camaraderie, the spontaneity of plans and those deep conversations going late in the night, I started questioning the validity of memories. Because you see, memories are fickle. Those raw, fragile memories interspersed all over our mind are vulnerable to the point of defiance. It’s almost funny how adulthood cuts through the intimacy of previous friendships, though some bonds stay as strong as ever.

The expectation of recreating every memory that was unlocked became ridiculous as time went by. The emphatic dysmorphia of current experiences settled into my brain and the deconstructed memories brought to me a moment of clarity in the chaotic mess of a mind.

Time & Space bring complexities that unravel the connections once made, or the experiences had. And that’s okay.  

Evolution of people, roads, and previous hang out places that once created a conundrum of emotions, was perceived through a sense of excitement & adventure by the end of the trip.

The real, raw, & unflinchingly honest experience of homecoming was far better than I ever imagined it to be.