Unreal Blog

Remorse is the flip side of choice, and nostalgia the inevitable consequence of any relocation. I should know; I have relocated far too many times in my life — nothing comes for free.

Searching for myself in large metropolises, I miss the Milky Way and the stars hiding behind the artificial brightness of the skylines. Conveniences at the expense of inner peace.

In the sea of unsmiling faces trying to avoid eye-contact, I miss the unexpected joy of a friendly face. Anonymity the price exacted and familiarity a willing sacrifice.

As my powerful sports sedan purrs away from the pack with near contemptuous ease, I miss my old Raleigh bicycle. A choice of riches over a simple pride.

While sipping the perfect wine matched to the incredibly miniscule helpings of incomprehensible delicacies, I miss a half-tea at Tarams and a mutton omelet at Indian Coffee House, and the friendship around it. Sophistication over small pleasures.

In the crystal clear waters at the postcard beaches of Cassis to Bintan to Phuket, I miss the angry waves of the choppy Arabian Sea and the boiling ferrous red beaches. The choice of a promised and over a lost home.

While watching National Geographic on large screens in all its HD glory, I miss the black and white contact prints from my dad’s old Agfa Click III. Technological perfection at the cost of emotional content.

And while writing this blog following as many rules of an alien grammar as I can remember, I also pine for the forgotten words of a mother tongue. Communication skills garnered at the cost of a language once owned.

It is not that I would have chosen differently if I had a chance do it all over again. It is the necessity of choice that is cruel. I wish I could choose everything, that I could live all possible lives, and experience all the agonies and all the ecstasies. I know it is silly, but I wish I never had to make a choice.

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This entry was posted on Friday, August 22nd, 2008 at 10:06 am and is filed under Articles and Essays, Life and Death. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Tags: mother tongue, nostalgia