Petrichor

As a continuous stream of tiny droplets made its way into the puddles of my colony, I sat on the windowsill drowned in the fragrance of the fresh muddy soil. The monsoon air brought with it the mood of nostalgia. In constantly changing times, my mind found solace in remembering olden days - when rains brought along hours of electricity outage. The memory relates to a sense of calmness that overpowered our irritation due to the absence of electricity. The biting mosquitoes, unread books, and unfinished assignments did not bother anyone back then. Power cuts were officially unproductive hours of the clock. It was the time to huddle together in a room, play silhouette games and make scary noises amidst the backdrop of gushing rains and thunder. It was then followed by a candle-lit family dinner. Life was simple.

As simple as the story of six friends finding love, happiness, and success together in the New York of 90s. An iconic show which was loved and continues to be loved by millions across the globe. The reason behind the show’s massive popularity, which transcends age and geography, lies in its beautiful depiction of nearly perfect relationships and light-hearted drama in the life of the six friends. A story, that at many levels, sounds ideal yet unrealistic. But, as a person who enjoys fiction to evade the harsh realities of life’s stress, I have always found comfort in the familiar slice of life comic banter of the twenty-somethings. A few weeks earlier, I sat down in front of my laptop, armed with munchies and a soft silky cushion, to tune into the streaming of a reunion episode. Looking at the familiar faces turn into a bunch of ripe old fifty-somethings, I got a reality check of changing times. The familiarity that I yearned for was missing from the episode, the youthful and energetic characters were replaced by realistic people, grown old in age.  I swiftly closed the stream and switched tabs to replay old familiar episodes, regaining assurance that in some world, time has remained still.

Whenever I find time, I love revisiting old photo albums. Again, a testimony to how much I crave nostalgia. The stills in those frames, even though seen umpteen times, never fail to astonish me. When we were kids, we always yearned to grow older, to be taken seriously, to be empowered, to be given control. But today, I realize there is nothing I would not trade to go back to being the little one clutching my mother’s saree. And then I wonder, has it always been this way? Would I feel the same yearning to switch places with my present self a few years later? Smiling to myself, I got down from the window and went back to my rotating chair and digital workbook to finish off my work assignment.