Today, bumped on some of my most precious belongings from this life, my old diaries.
After I got married, I left those back at my parents place. But that was for a while. In one of their visits, my parents brought them to me, knowing well what those old diaries meant to me.
It started quite late, contrary to when my mother wanted it to start. Finding me to be a very quiet and introvert child from the very beginning, she understood that I needed to vent my words and feelings out somewhere. And what can be better than a diary. So she tried hard, to ingrain the habit in me from quite an early age. Whereas, to me, it was more like studying, as it involved a pencil and a paper again..!! I preferred to be spending quiet time with nature, gazing at the blue sky, the flying birds, the little pot plants, watering them and their greenery, the dancing flowers, the blooming buds etc.,.
A time came, getting irritated to my mother’s continuous nagging, I gave in to her wishes. Was in my early teens, I started it with a diary entry. Somewhere I went, as a Sunday outing, on a picnic, with family. Still feel like laughing while going through those lines now. Those lines are filled with descriptive explanations,.. how we all got up early in the morning, got ready, what we ate, how we dressed etc.,. Putting time and date on one side, followed by the description of my day, well spent. How I spent my days, in school, in my neighbourhood. About my favourite teachers, what and how they taught, whom I liked, whom I hated and why..?? About my friends in our colony, who fought with me, whom I fought with, I agreed with whom, who agreed with me, whom I helped, who helped me and how I felt.. everything..!! Gradually and unknowingly, it grew up in me as a habit. I started to fall in love with it. Amidst my whole day’s routine, I had to sit with it once, however late it be. I started to hide our love now, which once was introduced by my mother only..!! You know World, what the best part was., I used to treasure my diary like the most precious gem in my life. I’d do every possible things to hide it from my world then, my parents, my sister..!!
Today, I’m really thankful to my Maa, under her farsightedness, who continuously kept on poking me to write, in order to create thoughts, of my own, on my own, to develop my creative writing skills. Though I started, a bit unwillingly, but it helped me out like nothing. My love for reading developed as well. Writing, anything it may, also developed side by side. As soon as I held my pen, I started scribbling whatever came in my mind. I still remember, in childhood, I used to love only one period in school, the one which was scheduled for Hand Writing. The cursive way attracted me too much. The designing way of writing simple letters, the artistic style in which our pencil was to be moved in order to create a beautiful writing style of our own. I remember, I used to watch other classmates, how they wrote the letters, straight or slanted, whether slightly inclined towards left or towards right, which looked good, which one I felt interested to follow..!!
Still remember.. the day, my father took me out a diary, though an old one, but it looked like a new one, and I was so so excited. Till today I remember, I wasn’t ready to leave it for a second, away from my eyes. The grin on my face wasn’t ready to leave me at all and now I recollect and enjoy such innocence in me.
Anyways.. I crossed my teenage with my Love beside me, in a quite happening way. Entered college…
Now you can well imagine, what, how and where my writings headed towards, as I headed towards college. The special feel, from those first stares, the excitements in getting one glimpse a day. ( As if they were more than enough to live life forever in that trance.) Those out – of – the – world feeling from that one glimpse. Ahha.. heavenly..!! All the crushes, the blushes, feelings, hallucinations, the dreams, the admirations, the infatuations. Those proposals, those unread love letters passed through friends, the ways how to handle them each. With or without, the expected or unexpected emotions attached to them, as per the situations demanded., my diary read each and every word, everytime, so patiently. Each and every ‘Firsts’ of mine, my diary got to know.
Then came marriage. With it, came wifehood, motherhood, womanhood and so on… Many more ‘Firsts’ got added in my diary pages. The diaries also grew in number by then as well.
Life rolled on, in turns. It started to seem very different, but, the love being in me, stayed by me, always, for all.. it seemed smooth, a sail.. since stayed my diaries, always beside me.
.. Today, I claim to love my Maa, for everything else apart, more so for this reason, that she nagged, she made me bound to start teaching my pen speak for me.. the best gift my Maa gifted to me, apart from my Life, is something which stayed here beside me, to cling on to, when none around to listen to my silent words.
She wanted me, her silent doll, learn to put into words, my silent thoughts, by growing the habit of writing and pouring them out.. somewhere, somehow.. to keep on holding herself boldly, to carry on with this vast life, strongly.
She knew.., her silent doll.. needs to learn to clear out her choked throat, by herself.,
.. needs to learn to wipe her tears, by herself.,
.. needs to learn to understand others ‘Feelings’ and convey her own to them too..
.. she has to grow up and her pen and papers only can help her do that, when she’s not there to do it for her doll.. anymore..!!
Thank you Maa, for introducing me with my all-time Love, my papers. My only wish left now, when I die, I want to be cremated with all my papers, altogether, in my pyre..!! 😇💕