Rant 279 : The Frozen Nostalgia

there was this, wonderful thing with her – I mean, she would just look at the ceiling this way and …”, and he paused for around 10 seconds. We three kept looking at his silent face. His lips trying to bring his nostalgic drought to normalcy. His eyes trying to look for the spot she would keep looking for long. It was not that they had enough time to let him keep getting lost every 3-4 minutes, but merely looking at him and the depth and breadth of his feelings, they did not disturb him.

“…and ask me, if I would stay with her for as long as she wanted and I would smile and say yes!”

The three of us smiled. Long, sophisticated and stretched smile.

“I never knew she would want me to stay with her for a short time instead. I mean we never showed it to each other, but we did love each other a lot. This was not just between us, but I am very sure the others around knew it well too. She definitely was the most beautiful lady inside out, that I had ever come across.”

He again started looking into the wine glass – that by now, was half over. We were all stuck there, we could not move away nor did we wish to stop listening to him. The memories made him nostalgic and not just that it intermittently moved him there – right in the past.

How do people enter into a solemn state of memories so often? What does that mean? If you move to a different plane of memory while you remember someone or talking of them, this definitely denotes that there are conversations which need closure. There are scenarios that need closure and there are moments that need a closure. Those blank moments are nothing but the spaces that have been turned into puddles over the time and now they are just there, stuck in between the memories and the conversations. They are bound to come in every time one tries to bring back memories.

We were not very happy with what happened at the café –a small conversation turned into a 2 hour long monologue, but we kind of felt satisfied that we gave a virtual sense of realizing the nostalgia of the old man.

All those blanks were frozen pieces of nostalgia.

Always Ranting,

Rantzaada.

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