There are things we come across everyday that remind us of our childhood. It could be an old song that suddenly plays on the radio, or a cuisine who’s aroma lands us right in our childhood home’s aangan, or a book we spot in a bookstore that someone once read to us, or an old friend who just happens to stop by. The list could be endless and full of surprises :-).
I have such a list too. This might sound silly but for me ‘fog’ is one of firsts on that list. Yesterday, while driving to work, I took some pictures of a foggy-misty morning. (For those who care, yes, I was stopped at a red light while clicking these!) I even rolled down my window to welcome the fresh smell and the cool air. Loved it!
I grew up in a small city in northern India where a dense fog in winters is a pretty common deal. In that part of the world, flights get cancelled, train schedules get disrupted, and even cyclists and pedestrians have to slow down even further to accommodate for the fog — on a daily basis — through the harsh winters.
It looks something kinda like this:
Ofcourse, I didn’t care for any of that stuff back then! I just loved the ‘mysterious’ and ‘secretive’ white fog where I could barely see ten feet beyond my own hands! The denser the better. What kid doesn’t love a deep mystery and a hidden secret afterall? 😛
I remember how I used to run to open the front door of my house during early winter mornings just to check on the fog. If I wasn’t able to see the house next door, it would pass the test! Ah, how happy I would be, as if floating on a snowy cloud (well, quite literally). Wrapped in the haze of the cool and clean mist, how safe I would feel, as if invisible, unreachable, invincible, immortal! True joys. Honest emotions.
Childhood memories are just so precious!