Moving(one town to another) happens to most of us atleast once, and for me it’s been a regular part of life. Being a military kid, moving every 2 odd years has been a norm, and now being in the uniform i have continued it for myself.
So my parents are moving (again) and i happened to be home in the midst. Didn’t matter that i was home for 4 days, i was assigned to go through my old stuff and burry into storage for good. I found my old box full of books.
Now that i read from a Kindle, i might have forgotten the feel for those fresh printed pages but a sight of all those books, whole lot of nostalgia in one go. Books purchased at railway stations, book fairs, school fairs, airports, etc etc. The book from my flight back from a rejected admission interview. The one from the train trip home after a while. The comics my dad got me, coming to see us after 8 months of deployment. Each text, each one of them with a memory attached to it.
To top it all, my mum, she stashed away my school texts/colouring books/almanacs from back when i was a tiny tot in school! Love you for all that mum.
I have finally after a tiring hour or so, stashed away all that 25 years worth of nostalgia, into a box, which i know not will be opened when. Maybe someday i find myself sitting by a window , remenescing of the times i shared with my brother, reading jokes out of a Archie’s.
Go back to your stack of comics and secret stashes of playboys maybe from those teen times. Maybe you’d feel the same as i do, maybe not, but i guess it’ll all be worth it.