The memories of lying on my back under a starlit sky, counting the stars, the magic of the shooting stars. The moonlit nights had a different appeal. There’s something about the moon that has fascinated me as a child, the changing shape, the patterns on the moon or rather the craters. I have always found the moon enigmatic and mysterious. Each star had a different story to tell, I thought. There’s so much secret hidden in the dark blue night sky. But alas, the bright lights of development eventually hid the night sky.

The pleasures of those rainy mornings, with absolutely nothing to do, just watching the rain or floating paper boats in deluged the courtyard. The music of the pitter pater silver rain, the simple pleasures of rainy days. Me sitting by the window, daydreaming, fantasizing about my dream lover who will sweep me off my feet. The grown-up world stole my rainy days. The traffic snarls, the water-logged roads and the miserable drive to work killed the romance.

The fun and joy of festive days – Lokhhi pujo, Saraswati pujo, Diwali at home. With my gang of cousins, we would raise money from the grown-ups, Nomentu (my dad’s younger brother lovingly addressed so) being the most generous donor. We would make a pandal with mom’s old sarees and garlands of marigold and march to the market to buy an idol. Walking in happily with the Goddess, sound of conch, kashor and ghonta.  The deadlines, the tight schedules, the obligations of being an adult, stole those days from me, burying them somewhere deep.

The first crush, the first kiss, the excitement, the happy fantasies. Life was like a Mills & Boon romance, the lovers spat, the make-up kisses and the illusions of happily ever after’s. Broken dreams, shattered hearts, promises forgotten or never made. I pick up the pieces and dream again of my prince charming who’s waiting somewhere.  Sweet memories of being in love…

That’s the beauty of memories, the lens of nostalgia makes the past look beautiful. The long hours of load shedding or power cuts, having to finish our homework in candlelight, the heat and the mosquitoes stinging me are forgotten. Only the beauty of the starlit night remains. On those long rainy days, the inconvenience of having to walk through the dirty deluged road is forgotten, music of the rain is what still allures me. Despite all the heartbreaks, it’s the memory of the kiss on a beautiful moonlit light that brings a smile to my lips.

Maybe it’s the simplicity of those days, maybe life is all about making beautiful memories and filtering out the inconsequential…