Books from another time


I saw these books sitting on my desk yesterday in quite the same fashion as you can observe in this photo here. You see, a good part of my early twenties was consumed by books on Accountancy and those written by John Grisham — Sidney Sheldon and Danielle Steel being my other two primary interests. I guess kids just happened to be blissfully uncomplicated a decade back or so. Time however, is a curious thing. It tends to do incredible things to us and its paradox remains immeasurable. Things considered absolutely indispensable at some point in time, turn into history at some other; whereas those considered useless, end up becoming the most cherished. However anything we go through, either good or bad, anything that was once a part of us, adds to the life experience and hence, plays its part in shaping our overall personality. Sadly, it is only by looking back that we realize what we left behind and how it influenced us.

I eventually grew out of the accountancy profession AND Mr. Grisham’s literary works, both, with the passage of time. But seeing these two books today somehow evoked all those memories in my mind. Memories of another time, of a carefree youth, of dreams; God, so many dreams! So many ridiculous, almost laughable dreams. It is such an annoyance, this memory business. More often than not you are cursed to live with the image of yourself from a time you can never possibly go back to.

But to me the most ironic part of it all is the nagging possibility that this image could perhaps be the only YOU, you’d ever be able to truly revere.



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