Bucketful of Memories




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16:00:08 Just a nudge would have done it. Just a little shove would have sufficed. It was only a matter of quick effort to end the misery and start anew. But his thoughts were still muddled when it came to deciding on the vector of his effort. Which direction would it be? A pull of his legs upward strong enough to crack his neck? Or a pull downward on the fan breaking the bed? As the chair precariously weighed its options, he tried to maneuver them. He was distraught by his double life, one lived in the unrealistic world and other in his surreal fanciful cinematic reel. The nudge did come a little later. "I'm home".

16:01:07 He had tried hard to bring some fun into his life. Hobbies which were long forgotten, kits brought out from jammed cabinets, notebooks made home by cobwebs. Everything he could. It had worked to some extent. The revival of his childhood memories of playing with his parents became as fresh as morning dew on grass: ready to disappear the moment your warm breath came close to it.

16:02:06 She, his wife, had made him happy as much as she could. But beyond that the dichotomy of their flagellating lives was apparent to everyone around them. Their incessant fights, inundating shout-matches and verbal crossfires were all too bold to be restricted behind locked-up doors and closed windows. He never thought that it would come to such a bad state.
 
16:03:05 Both of his parents had passed away some years ago. This had broken him. His youthful charisma had given way to chimerical plans to reclaim his happiness. The treasure trove of the forests called him again and again, rising above the din of a 'cityful' but lifeless existence. His inability to gather courage was only to be blamed.
 
16:04:04 His dream of seeing the whole world had been majorly successful. He had traveled to many a countries, basking in their esoteric cultures and meaningless banter of the locals. All he needed more was nothing. Nothing in its absolute sense of an existential crisis. And an identity crisis which pulls you in two opposite directions but is mean enough even with a mean of zero to leave you there, as it is, to burn down under your own weight. 

16:05:03 The coming together of two young lovers fresh out of college was like a blob of an ocean making an appearance in a parched desert. Their sublime fires had engulfed all their sanity and thoughtfulness. The extrapolated future was magnetic and stronger than the drab past. The colors brighter than the black and white of yesterday. The fragrances of the love lanes attractive than the smells of singledom.

16:06:02 In college he was a bright chap. Acing his subjects was not a task but an art for him. Cynosure of the professors and an eyesore for competitors. He whiled away his time though on video-games and novels. Chided he was by his parents for this, but loved all the more by them as he was their only offspring. Notes he took diligently and remember he did efficiently. Interests of his were wide and deep, shallow only when life skills he knead.
 
16:07:01 His childhood was at most plain but full of innocent pleasures. The vast countryside in which grew up wasn't sparse in the greens nor lacking in mates, distant though their homes were. His parents farm had horses and sheep alike, dogs and hens abundant & rabbits and geese infinite. The dust and gusty winds had honed his sportsmanship and the thunders and muck his grit. School was nothing but a distraction in his world of endless possibilities.
 
16:08:00 His birth was a difficult one. The nurses were tensed as much as her mother's muscles. His father paced the outer verandah and only a shrill cry could calm him down. He ran inside and pushed wide open the wooden door to hold his baby in his arms. Glimpse of him from a distance was enough to make his strong demeanor melt away. The bread-earner wanted a daughter, while the bread-eater wanted a son. A daughter-son he was to be, beginning to live a life of doubled expectations. The mother was blissfully happy and while giving him to the father uttered, "He's home".





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