When nostalgia strikes hard

So here I am, waiting at Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport, sipping my overpriced cold coffee at starbucks. I still have over 5 hours to kill.

I always feel nostalgic whenever I visit Mumbai. Even though I don’t really have too many memories associated with this city, those purple and white state buses plying on the highway takes me back to the time I would visit Pune to meet my then girlfriend Pooja. It is her birthday tomorrow and today, I am a nothing but a stranger from her past.

As soon as I stepped out of the airport this morning, I was fishing for food; I was as hungry as a whale. I ordered for a simple ‘Masala Dosa’ and my co-traveller ordered for a ‘Pav Bhaji’.

“Are you sure you want to eat Pav Bhaji as your first meal of the day?” I asked sceptically. He simply looked at me and smiled broadly acknowledging his choice.

My eyes settled on a board that read, ‘Fresh strawberry milkshake’. Overwhelming memories poured in this restless mind of mine. This meek sentence took me back to the strawberry fields of Mahableshwar (near Pune), where I had once gone on a vacation with Pooja. We were so young back then; young and in love. We were just two naïve tourists, roaming around aimlessly through the strawberry fields, trying to steal some of those ripe strawberries for the sake of thrill. Nothing ever really bothered us when we were together with each other; the place had never been an important factor in our lives, after all it was the companionship that we sought.

I remember teaching her how to shoot pictures on my DSLR camera. At one point of time, she got so close to a strawberry, that I couldn’t help but comment, “If you take the lens any further, the strawberry will feel shy of getting clicked.” 

She gave me a repulsed look and mimicked me like a small child. I burst out into laughter. She even mimicked my laughter. That was her most efficient way of getting back at me as she would often say that I laughed like a person suffering from asthma. I was annoyed as usual, and just like every other time, she knew how to make me feel better that very moment. She laughed gleefully and came hopping towards me. She pulled my cheeks, rolled up her eyes and said, “Aww my baby! Are you angry with me?” That’s all she ever needed to do. I would melt instantaneously like ice on a bright sunny morning. She held my left arm and said, “You are like one small kid Pukku (that’s what she called me). A little bit of love, and you are all fine, and that’s what I love the most about you. Always keep that child within you okay? I smiled cheerfully and walked her back to the car.

Later on as we were getting into the cab, I excused myself and quickly went back to the farmer’s retail shop nearby and bought her a box of strawberries. Oh boy was she happy. I guess I got out the child in her as well. She rested her head against my shoulder and munched on the strawberries on our way back to Panchgani.

Today, as I sit outside this airport, munching up the free cakes and tea offered by Starbucks, I couldn’t help but write about this brilliant and beautiful woman who walked into my life and taught me all about love, happiness and expression; most of all about bringing that child out in me. I hope that someday I find someone like her and this time I get to keep her forever. That is what she had wanted for me as well- finding that right person who balances out ‘what is’ and ‘what could have been’.

So friends, this is the precise problem with emotional fools like us. We move on, but never get over with the beautiful past, and even the tiniest of triggers can pull us back to reminiscing over ‘what was’ and ‘what could have been’.