It is true what Proust says, memories come back to us as colors, scents and touches. They assail the mind once you give them the faintest of permissions and take you back to the places and escapades that you were in.
The last two articles have done that to me. They have lifted the veil of years and shown me those years when I was still stumbling along without having an inkling what the life is all about. Not that I have any such inkling at present. Life is too involved for that. We may think that we have an idea what a particular thing is, but when you look into them closely you see layers being peeled away from it and the things beginning to take a different turn altogether. I have felt it many times before. The boredom and apathy we feel at times do not pluck the charm of life away. To my mind they rather enhance the feeling of being very much alive. What we dislike actually is the fear that we have to plod on without having anything interesting to do.
This might be the proverbial burden of life.
More about my escapades later!
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