I Have A Thing For The Things That Have Lived

I don’t appreciate some kind of changes.

I dislike how we evolve making a slight change here, a little there to escape from social misfit. I support growth and development. Everyone does. That’s how everyone will get to lead a better life.

But when it leads us into substituting the things that have stood the test of time and are still serving you with the same grace, with the ones which looks appealing to the eyes — it aches.

For instance, take a switch and suppose it has suddenly stopped working. It can’t light a bulb anymore. You are left with two options now. Call an electrician and see if he can fix the fault or decide on buying a new switch or may be a new switchboard. You chose the second option. You might have thought that the switch has been sticking to your wall since ages so it’s natural for it to stop working. Left into the trash now.

We even tend to do the same thing to the relationships in our lives, however we don’t do it on purpose (sometimes, its mutual). When things turn bitter, we find it convenient to let the person be instead of trying to mend the relationship and make it work again. All in an effort to get rid of the person, we feel can’t light up our life anymore.

You could have been successful in making the same switch light up the bulb once more, in filling the growing distances between you and your close acquaintance — if you were not enamored by the new ones.

There is a slight intoxication and warmth to the things that have lived. You feel safe having them around you. It could be anything — an old diary, a book turned crisp and yellow, a vintage lamp ,an old study table, a fountain pen, a Kodak digital camera, a radio or the Bakelite dolly light switches — the cute, round and brown ones. They feel good to our hearts not because of their utility but because of there long time association with us and with the people we love.

Now as I am talking about switches, I am reminded of the Bakelite dolly light switches which are sporting the walls of many of the rooms in my house since 5 decades or more. My house will soon be under construction. It’s quite old ( if 8 decades is old) and not planned as per the current fashion. Although it has all the luxuries you will hardly get to see in the posh apartments of metro cities, it is not apt for hosting the future maybes ( if you know what I mean). The yard in my house is covered with a galvanizing roof top which majestically announces the upcoming of a heavy rainfall. When it rains heavily, the sound gets so loud that we can hardly hear each other. The steady downpour alarms my mom and aunt as they rush towards the garden located inside the house, to pull off the clothes hanging upon the rope and prevent them from getting wet. A monkey or two greets us at the time of breakfast as they peep through the tin and hunt for food faking innocence at their faces. Birds are always welcomed to eat millet grains spread over the cemented stone on the ground. Sometimes monkeys get lucky and gulp in all the food, kept with other animals in mind.

We never feel the need to escape from our rooms to see if the sun is shining or we are blanketed by the clouds.

The hint of a sunny morning can be seen on the dining table stationed in the middle of the yard. The light inside the house changes its filter from dim to dark and many shades in between, falling in symmetry with the weather outside. The structure of my house allows me to stay close to nature while being leisurely sitting inside my room as I read a book or write a blog, like I am doing now.

I don’t where I am getting at with all that I am saying. I just hope that refurbished new house feels as good as the one I am living in. A few years down the line I get to lie beneath the open sky lit up with the moon light and enjoy the monsoons at the same place.

Have a Good Day ahead ❤


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