A walk in the stars..

Every word had its meaning, every emotion had along with it attached memories and portrayals. Rohan drove his Bajaj Pulsar motorbike and left for his work. On his way to work, he saw different characteristics of his city. Things that weren't the manner, he had felt. Things were deeper to be given a thought and to introspect. To avoid a red light at one busiest road, he took the other road that day. It wasn't a main road but a bylane; that was a treat for the bikers to let aside the long traffic jam, in the wee hours of the morning. As Rohan took a left turn towards the bylane, his eyes met with a road, that he hadn't visited from ages.

Rohan was twenty seven years old, but he hadn't thought of paying a visit to his Primary School. Just incidentally he had found himself right in front of his school. He paused for a moment to look at the school building. The silence, the relief that occurred to his heart, set the reminiscence bells ringing with it's own charm and realization.The characteristic of that emotion was an incomparable figure, a structure of the heart which no money could bring. He saw a father holding his daughter's hand; and how the father's fingers held his daughters' hand and looking at her made him revisit the memories of his distant childhood. But, in that moment, it appeared as if, it had been just yesterday. How time had moved, he thought. Next he saw, a small girl dressed up with in her embroidered suit, in her fancy dress; as if there was going to be a fancy dress competition at the school that day. Or, that day could also hold her birthday and maybe she was so excited to celebrate the special day with her friends. That really meant enjoyment. The enjoyment that Rohan felt that anyone could only feel in childhood. When the realities of the world were unknown, then not much pressure visited their gates. It was about playing, cycling, getting on the swings, playing with the toys for the tiny tots there. That excitement to feel every moment had just lessened with the times.

Rohan no doubt was nostalgic. He had been standing in front of his school, not going in, for he was shy to feel in every breathe, the honesty and innocence of his days. He was getting late for work; he realized. A drop of tear or two fell from his eyes unto his cheeks, he stood like a statue impaired with the bike from the external appearance but within his heart rung the dreams and imaginations. He could relate himself with those children, playing on the swings before the school hours were to begin. He saw their cute fight for toys and that one was to sit on a given swing before the other. But, he also saw friendship in them, and the faces of his childhood friends came to his eyes. It had been a long time, they must have settled by now, he wondered. Many faces of the friends had just remained in the book of memories for him because he hadn't maintained contacts with them, once they had entered the High school after the Primary school was over. There was no stopping to his reminiscence of the past days. From comparing every little particle he could see around him. Particle in the form of every brick of the building to the expression on the faces of the boys and girls whom he saw in that chilly morning. Well dressed up and brought up to school, even the love and care of their parents could be felt. That moment was instrumental to warm the forlorn heart with honesty of the situation, when the parents were coming to drop their children and sharing the special bondage.

That day, Rohan had felt as if he had grown but the real understandings of the world, the children had well known. The simpler understandings, that friendship wasn't meant to be for and of a day but it was to be unconditional and forever. As he was going to leave from that memorable place, from that lane where the school was, he left thinking of a day when his dad had got him ready with a Santa Claus cap for the Christmas celebrations at school, about how he painted in the art class that was held in the basement to the big building. The names and faces of his teachers, became crystal clear and reached to his eyes, that had by far become a wonderland of hopes and expectations. Hopes and expectations, to learn from the children, to cherish the very fact that once he was one of them too, a child. Life was such, it was an experience far beyond the words could express or testify. It was a feeling to be kept in the heart as a fork lore, that could inspire humans from road to road, not to forget the ideals of justice but to encourage the emancipation of art. To play with the colours, to write good stories to our days, and not to be angry all the times but to let a room of understandings also stem like the wood to tall trees, that snowed greenery and subsistence to the environment in the form of fresh breeze and rich air of quality. But, human beings only threatened the nature, and polluted the air content with chemicals by the incessant use of technology etc., he thought, from his point of view inspired from his school lessons in the bloom of innocence, in childhood. Still, a lot was left unfelt as he was leaving for his work, and at last he saw boys and girls doing horse-riding and tears erupt yet again with those pervading shades of innocence that somewhere had hidden in the strong sheath of his heart, that wasn't only innocent but grown up. He removed his helmet, wiped his tears and couldn't stop but think, how pleasant it was then. Not that his present was any bad, but childhood was something that couldn't be compared with any stage of life. It was school that prepared the children for the future, to live life with open arms. So, this time he got in terms with the situation, with the reality that he had grown up.

On the other hand, he saw a boy in rough hair, in torn clothes pleading for coins as his sister danced on the road with her acrobatic skills, they were also children, small incarnations of truthfulness. Why weren't they getting to live the life that they deserved? He questioned himself and as he couldn't do anything for them at that moment, he himself had become a little weak in the wide morning of dreams and expectations. In his leaving he wished if he could do some little for these children who weren't getting the access to education. All throughout his journey to office; he remained in these thoughts. He had a very nice day at work, earning respect of his employers for his good work. Rohan had achieved a lot in his life, the love of the people, whom he met. It was his tryst with dreams that brought him back to imagine his youthful years. Every memory flashed like a gift to his eyes. It had been an influential day itself in its enchanting colours, embracing his heart with affection and likewise interest.

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