I found a dried rose in a really old diary of mine, the one I had in class 10. I can’t recall who it was from, cause I clearly remember not receiving any roses from the boyfriend I had at that time. And besides, I am not a very red rose person. I’m not a rose person at all.
I found a tattered piece of paper with a poem on it. It’s not written by me and it isn’t written by any of my friends but it is a poetry on friendship. And I can’t recollect who’s handwriting that is. (Yes it is handwritten so it had got to be from before the computers over took our pages)
I also found my old book of Idioms. I have my favourite ones dog eared and some are even underlined. And the book right beside it (The Fountainhead) also had similar underlined paragraphs. There was a time when I found idioms beautiful and that made the base for me to appreciate complicated sentences. No, actually, helped me understand the beauty of simplexity.
Simplexity is a word made of complexity and simplicity. There’s also a book by the same name.
It is amazing how I’ve grown and how people around me have come and gone. There once was a person who was important enough for me to have saved the rose he had given to me in a dary and now, I can’t even remember who it is from. There once was a friend who thought me worthy of poetry and now she’s lost to the new memories I’ve created. There was once a time where my mother bought books for idioms and now, she watches me read Rebecca and Shantaram.
Contentment comes from within and the family plays a huge role in it. By family, I don’t just mean parents and siblings but also the few close friends you have. I’m blessed with more than a few such friends apart from the loving family. I mean, my grand father just sent me a text stating how proud he is of having me as his grand daughter, and my mother is coming all the way to Burdwan to see me off for the teeny test I have, not because it is a test but because she has a holiday and she’s free, and my grand mother asks me if I’m pooping alright and another one sends me food from the other side of the street! I have friends who’re there for me no matter what and I have a flatmate who agrees to delay his date to collect something for me from home (a letter for college, beat that).
And who knows, even there people might get shelved into a folder in memory and gather dust until one day, where future me, finds a blog post written about them while rummaging through older ones. Or, I come across a note scribbled on my phone. Or a random message.