Maturing is thought to be an advancement in life, a milestone which if passed with proper care and sensibility one passes the test of life at the very earliest.
But maturity takes a heavy price. A big darn price which seems unattractive in childhood but once you realise how much valued that possession is, you know that it can't be bargained with again. The price is the childhood itself.
Sitting in the train, looking outside the window to sip every scenery inside myself so that I have at least a year full of memories to rely on, I start to think what happened to all my dreams and what happened to me? Going back to college after this wonderful vacation seems a deathtrap to me because it will all start again. The same boring schedule of my life and the same 'sticking to the internet at everyday' routine. That's the thing about luxuries of life. Once you have had your portion full of new, extraordinary, and luxurious things in your life, ordinary and petty things start to make sense. Because that's where you came from.
Simple things in life now mean a lot to me. And vacations keep reminding me the origination of myself. Like sitting outside your home late at night and gossiping with family especially in winter season. Visiting the places of your childhood which once were the only fascinated place you knew in the whole world, unlike paris, disneyland or even Miami and your literary characters hometown. My childhood park has now got a new look though but the thing is I can't even remember what it looked like during my early days.
Things have changed there immensely but not people. They are still attached to their traditions and still have the same habits as they did when I was small enough to reach only their knees.
I live in a place called 'Dewas' which is exactly forty five minutes from Indore in Madhya Pradesh. It's not that big to call it a city but not that small to call it a town.
Recently, I read Nikita Singh's 'The Promise' which indeed was a good read. But I won't give you a review about that because what made me happy was the mention of the place called 'Dewas' in that book. And believe me I was very delighted to hear that.
Even the smell of smoke and fog there feels good and inviting. And where I live now? Well, the air is suffocating here.