Nostalgia
Memory a powerful force, evoking both nostalgic bliss or traumatic fires for those who remember the past. It possesses the ability to transport us back to places we left behind years ago, reconnecting us with the demons we flee from or the joyful heavens we long for.
When I was around 11 years old, I moved from a rural farming village on the outskirts of the city to the bustling urban landscape. Despite the relatively short distance of fifty miles between these places, they existed as separate worlds with distinct identities.
A few weeks after I arrived in the city, I began attending school.
The experience of learning my numbers and ABCs for the first time felt magical as if I were sitting on the wings of a dragon, soaring to the ends of the world. A fire ignited within me, and hope exploded in my mind. I couldn't quell my thirst for knowledge, constantly reading and thinking until the next day of school arrived. I would wake up before dawn, eager to go to school and feel a pang of sadness when it was time to return home. I yearned to spend all my time in the classroom, absorbing information and immersing myself in the school environment. My hunger for education was insatiable because back in the village where I grew up, there was no formal schooling. Our existence revolved solely around inheriting the traditions of farming. If it weren't for my grandmother, that would have been my destined path—a transition from one form of darkness to another.
The world we inhabited felt confined, like a tiny eggshell.
Raised by my grandparents, I formed a special bond with my grandmother. She was my favorite person, always delighted to have me by her side. She would narrate fairy tales to me, both soothing and spooky, and I cherished every one of them.
She often spoke of the worlds beyond our village, telling me, "One day, you will leave this forgotten place and venture into the city!"
Whenever she mentioned my departure, a smile would light up her face, as if she held the entirety of my future within her gaze. The thought of leaving her behind was daunting, but I listened intently to her words, yearning for the day when I could take flight on her wings and witness a different world.
"Are you sure I won't be here beside you?" I would inquire, tinged with both sadness and excitement.
"I am sure!" She would reply, her happiness undiminished. "You will leave this place, attend school, and forge a better life for yourself!"
Sometimes, I wonder what emotions filled her heart during those conversations. Was she as sorrowful as she was content to let me go? If she was, she never revealed it.
And so, one day, the dream transformed into a surreal reality that I struggled to comprehend. A feeling of excitement and fear combined as one, a butterfly feeling fluttered inside me.
Soon when the day arrived for me to leave, tears streamed down my face, knowing I wouldn't see my grandmother or hear her enchanting tales each night. It felt as though I were leaving behind a vital part of myself, for she was the only person I adored, and still do.
Now, as I sit here and look back, carried by nostalgia and walk on a memory lane, I keep wondering about that’s happened a long time ago and my heart is filled with laughter and loss as all seems a distant memory, yet still brewing inside my head.
Midnightink 7-12-23