Spring never fails to remind me about the days gone by. Memories of being young, nervous child; impatiently waiting for the exams to get over so that I can treasure time reading about stuff that caught my fancy, come all alive. Ah, what a semi-futile attempt it used to be to make up for those boring school course and text books without spirit!
How I hated those history classes and always thought doing algebra in class was unnecessary. After all, what are calculators for? But those were my thoughts back then. Now, in my thirties and mother of a five year old, I realize it was all important indeed!
This reminds me of something I read recently, “youth is wasted on the young, young love fades, people come and go… you can’t go home again and that it’s all over too soon.” I don’t know how far it’s true but I certainly do wish to censor and edit some of the life changes.
But at the same time, I also I can’t imagine life with a set routine, strict rules, and discipline! A life when every day is the same, when spring is the same as autumn, and when there is no change, no surprise. So I feel, it is not youth that is wasted on the young but life that is wasted on the old!
And before I get old, I want to make the most of it. Make each moment count, every memory special, and every day a new day by cherishing all the little changes, nasty challenges, and difficult times that life has to offer.
And so I am despite the never ending trail of my routine stuck days thankful of those few perfectly paced moments that land on my lap every once in a while to make my day special. The weather this evening is nothing short of perfect.
And though I am unable to go out and enjoy the eve to its core, relaxing on my terrace while watching the different colors of spring in the sky, I am also learning to appreciate a slower pace of life and a strange beauty in order!
justanshulika 