Friday, September 7, 2012

Theme 140 - Nostalgia

From @DayaDarwazaTodo: A dusty knob. The door creaks. A hand impression on the window. Rusted wind chimes still making sweet music. A slight breeze. A rickety chair. Cobwebs all over. A cup that once had coffee - strong, with two spoons of milk, a cube of sugar. A tear rolls down. Life was once very different.

From @roshd:

These Mumbai rains bring back fond memories. Of school- waiting for a working day to get washed off. Of hot kanda-bhajiyas with tea to be had listening to Bon Jovi. Of my first crush- getting wet with her and that first kiss.

As it rains today I’m thinking- “Aaj kuch toofani karte hain”

From @SamridhiTrisal: It all came back. The places they used to visit together. The songs he used to sing to her. The letters he used to write to her. Those stolen kisses. Those long walks. Those beautiful conversations. A part of her knew she still loved him. But she dismissed it as nostalgia. And, moved on.

From @swordfish19: Saturdays meant getting up early, having a breakfast of eggs, bread and creamy hot coffee. And then as was our wont, listening to Beatles and crooning along with Lennon. Even today, listening to a stray Beatles song transports us instantaneously to those Saturdays. But those Saturdays won’t come back again. They are long gone.

From @deescjockey: We used to hang out in that corridor for hours. Legs stretched out, resting our backs against the ancient pillars, we discussed everything from life and career to sex, romance, movies, music, professors, religion, politics and history in no particular order. Once we rescued a puppy here. Lectures were optional. They've gated the corridor now.

From @NumbYaar: Rehan sat in a coffee shop, trying to light paper. His friends stopped him on time to snatch the lighter away. They were slightly concerned about his pyromania. Little did they know that the smell captivated him. It took him back to his hostel days when he burnt paper on a heater’s filament.

From @DrNiravParmar:

''Damn rains ! ''
roads blocked
office bunked
''how to pass day?''
''clean-up your cupboard''
lost wallet
old marksheets
first resume'
'a photo. Grainy, black-and-white. A bunch of boys in front of a school'

runs a loving hand on it
grin fades

"Honey, are you crying?"

From @ponderpuffman: Aaji’s blanket. Mother’s secret. Anna’s watch. Father’s punch.  Broken walls in town. Poems that smell brown. That breakfast in Kayani. Her last letter in a magazine. Every day he remembered a thing to miss. Every day he found a thing to miss. He drank those tears from a glass jar. He named that drink ‘Nostalgia’.

From @Greyllusionist: I still take a turn of those old left away crossroads whenever I return to our hometown... we left for different cities that night... Haven’t yet touched the last chapter of the book that you left half-read then but flip through the old read pages everyday… They say nothing lasts forever but this seems immortal!

From @PeaceOVent:

The first look. Meeting. A date. Laughter. Holding hands. A kiss. Text messages. Phone conversations. Misunderstandings. Angry tears. Bidding goodbye. Moving on.

The first look.

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