CELESTIAL LOVE

As I lay on the terrace, on this pleasantly breezy summer night, I couldn’t help but wander back through the lanes of childhood. I compared my life--Then and Now. Every thing has changed.Come to think of it, the only thing that remained unchanged is the sky and my love for it.The sky always fascinated me, calmed me. Even as a child, my favorite past time was figuring out shapes that clouds made. Till this day, I stare intently at the sky, straining my faulty -3 eyes, and play ‘the cloud shape game’ with my mother.

I remember when I was 12, my best friend then, Eri, and I would play that game over the phone. She lived about 2.5 kilometers away and we would talk for hrs arguing over clouds that we saw from our windows.We couldn't believe that we could see the same sky from such a distance.

I vaguely recall sitting in my balcony, in my previous house, with my neighbor's kids, searching for shapes. We must have been 8 years old and Jurassic Park was a craze. I remember how we screamed when we saw a Tyrannosaurus looking cloud.Sometimes if i woke up early, i would sit on my study table and silently watch the garden outside my home wake up to the rising sun.

More than the blue sky, the studded night sky was what really caught and held my attention. I remember when I was little, 6years, I guess; Jaggu uncle was in town for a few days. One night, he took me out in the balcony and showed me all the constellation, The Great Bear et al. I remember being utterly in awe of his intelligence.

And few years later, there was this comet thing visible in the skies. Mumma used to take me for long walks and we would eat ice candies and watch the comet. Halley’s Comet, was it?
I don’t remember the name, I just remember being really happy.

When i was 13, my folks and i took our first and only holiday together to Murud. From my room in the cottage by the sea, i sat for hours staring at the stained moon meekly reflecting of the Arabian sea. It was surreal.

I wish I could turn back time; to days when life was simpler.

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