That Journey Via Old Place.

Our House: What are the earliest memories of the place you lived in as a child? Describe your house. What did it look like? How did it smell? What did it sound like? Was it quiet like a library, or full of the noise of life? Tell us all about it, in as much detail as you can recall.

I never thought, I would be the one saying this but I guess life drags each one of us to that same level. I feel like I have too much on my plate. On one hand it is not as much that I would call it “out of my hands” but I feel like each of the activity on my to-do-list takes its own time to be completed. So, indirectly what I am saying is that, the things we do and the time that they take is not in proportions at all.

We do more, and say even more, but for a tiny amount of result. Now, I am not sure if others could relate to this, but If they can then they would know what I mean. Do I mean the way we do things lacks efficiency? May be yes, but I think I am referring to the fact that we give importance to trivial matters a lot more than we think.

Here is the backstory; I was required to go to some outstation place for another of those work trips and nothing was sorted out (until the last minute), to make matters worse the trains were cancelled too and my seniors clearly said that they would take care of it “later” because, you know how much time such “trivial” matters consume (sarcasm). And as it goes… they did not take care of anything until the last minute second, to be precise. 

Oh, how our seniors always have hundreds of things to take care of, but we do not. I mean we are not rocket scientists and therefore, do not have anything to do. Also, it is no use trying to explain that you have a life outside work because somehow it is presumed that you do not have one. 

However, It is in crisis like these that you get to see the true face of a person. I must say the truth could have been ugly, fortunately it was all right not great though, but okay. Who cares if it was not even my field of work to begin with – I have no choice but to take it as a learning experience.

Sadly situations like these, small matters like these, and the whole aftermath (psychological analysis) of an event like this occupies our precious time – what a wastage of resources!? Anyway, all’s well that ends well

Jumping onto the prompt, while on this aforementioned work-trip to the neighbouring city, I passed by my Junior high School. Yes, nostalgia was at its peak, after all it was the School that I attended back in third grade as a small kid. I did not have much time to walk down the memory lane, but I sure felt a sense of pride, I guess, from the fact that I have come quite a long way from where I was. Simple as that… it was good.

And so was my old abode – good! Views of the open sky, a vacant green plot of land in the front, spacious veranda, hall etc. very little noise (all the noise was me, my brother and our friends). I was three so that is all I remember. Rest is here.  (