One of those “shower moments,” and this particular one happened this morning in the car (and no, there was no water or shampoo involved while I was driving, although those who’ve seen me lately will wonder why I still claim to use shampoo anyway) that made me wonder how we look back with a touch of longing for old times. Be it high school, old bikes & cars, samosas from Patel’s Sweet Shop round the corner or taking the RTC bus to college with a Sidney Sheldon in your hands, you tend to look back like those were the best days of Bryan Adams’ life.
To be honest, I really really wouldn’t want to really go back & live like that anymore. The high school experience was packaged with it’s fair share of actual time spent poring over boring text books, tests, pre-final exams, final exams, raging hormones notwithstanding. Old bikes & cars were just that. Old. Shaky at best. Bits & pieces falling off. Blow jobs to carburettors (although I quite liked doing this, made me feel like the Pit Boss at McLaren (Do pit bosses really do that?)) (Don’t miss the double brackets : ) (This one’s just a smiley)) just when you absolutely needed to be somewhere real quick, because, you know, you couldn’t call your friends to tell them you’ll be late, in the pre-pager/mobile phone era. Samosas & pani-puris tasted better when this concrete mixer of an oesophagus could tolerate such things without erupting like a pubescent Etna. That’s not entirely true, some-more-sas and pain-puris are the best!
I guess that’s precisely why we’re pre-programmed with a bit of selective memory, wetting ourselves with the good ones and conveniently forgetting the non-nostalgia-worthy ones. And that’s especially handy when you connect with a bunch of your old school mates after a couple of decades, you’re DeLorean’ed back in time, and suddenly, all is well and life is as it should be.