Wednesday, March 16, 2011




The sort of refreshing feeling you get when you're first thrown into a big delicious swimming pool in the heat is indescribable. Companies try and simulate this feeling by producing splash astringents, people try and simulate it by splashing water on their faces in blistering heat or soporific hazes. But nobody can describe the real deal.

We're supposed to splash our lives into a new job that we love, a new hobby that moves us, a new aim that makes us want to leap out of bed each morning. It's all in with the new, they say. I've seen people buy so much new stuff over the last few days, it's scary. It almost leaves a sort of luxury to hand-me-down objects now, because they're not new. They're not the splash. They're the woody, heady smell of old books, of pages turned, of events past, washing over you and welcoming you into their pool of life. Prized family Watches and Family Heirlooms, for example. People try and simulate this feeling by buying antiques. But nobody can describe the real deal.

Another feeling I love is the one where familiarity re-visits you. Walking past college gates, drinking the same cup every morning, surviving hellish days to come home to your same old bed and fall asleep holding the same old soft pillow. Going back to that old haunt and getting your usual order. Wishing the same people good night every night before sleeping. The smell of a perfume you used for a prolonged period in your life. People try and simulate this by viewing old photo albums, establishing rules and routines, using the same stationery for years to come and reminiscing every chance they get. But nobody can describe the real deal.

What's better sometimes is familiarity's riddance. The Sigh of relief when your old engineering books have been given away, knowing you never have to study them. The relief you feel when you realise that old battles no longer exist. Saying good-bye to old, bigger sized clothing. Saying good-bye to abuse. People simulate this by spring cleaning, burning their bridges and celebrating smaller victories- last english exam, last physics exam. But nobody can describe the real deal.

I'd love to tell you what I believe splashing into love is like, opening old novels is like, a weekend with my old friends is like and saying goodbye to the demons of my past is like. I really would.
But I can't even begin to describe the real deal.


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