The process of searching is one of the most fascinating things I’ve experienced, though you might not infer the same, nay more, you’d infer quite the contrary, if you were beside me while I was in the midst of some such process.
I’ve been suffering from an idenity crisis for about a week now. I’ve lost my ID card. Circumstances necessitated that I search for it. I ransacked my room; but failed to find the card. Then I decided to put things in order again; and still no luck. I repeated the whole cycle in vain. And I’m sure I can do it a million more times and I would not find it. Its certain the day I pay the fine and bring my new card home, I’ll find the old one. That’s where I like the idea of stores in the U.S. One can return most products within a certain period of time after the purchase if one is not satisified. I think this particularly helpful because if I were to buy, say, a pair of socks, and lose them, the easiest way for me to find them would be to go the store and buy myself another such pair. When I get home I’m sure to find the old pair, folded and sitting neatly on the clothes shelf. Then I can go back and return the new pair.
What amazes me about the search is the wealth of memories it brings back. This present search throwed up stuff that reminded me of my intial anxieties when I came here, my pleasant outings, my horrible score-sheets, my passionate collection of library fines, mile-long grocery bills and such like. And this search in turn reminded me off past searches. Almost every vacation I’d find I can’t find something or the other of tremendous value, and often most things of such exalted status, and I’d search my treasure chests. This search brings back many memories; Old class photographs to remind me of the days of innocence; Mickey mouse and Bata(back to school) book labels which remind me of the start of school. It used to feel horrible to return from vacations and have to go to school again, and as a form of protest I never bound my books. This greatly annoyed my mom, and she would remind me everyday to bind them, but I’d persist in my stubbornness, until a fair compromise would be reached in which I’d bring her the brown paper and the scissors, and she would do all the binding. Then I’ve found some old birthday cards which remind me of the people who gave them, and some other connected instances. Almost every birthday since my 6th standard remind me of that one particular birthday when I made a dent in my skull by smashing my head against the wash-basin while bathing and had to get several stitches on my forehead. It was also special because, at our home, we don’t have birthday parties, and that was my first party, when we bought a large cake to be cut, and had the house all lit-up in fancy lighting, and invited several of our(my brother and I have our birthday just three days apart and so we decided to have a combined party) friends from the neighbourhood. Then there’s my old, and fairly large coin collection. I also collected a few stamps. I was introduced to the terms philately and numismatics in my 4th standard, and I was so fascinated by the high-sounding nature of these two words that I decided I must be able to use them in my own life, and hence began collecting coins and stamps. Its sad that they are in such a disarray now. Its actually very interesting how I got most of my coins. When I was in the U.S. for a year in my 7th, I used to keep an eye out for foreign looking people in the neighbourhood, and unabashedly approach them and ask them if I they would give me some coins from their own country! I’ve even gone to the extent of knocking on doors at random and asking for coins. As a friend rightly said, I had a cute face then, and nobody would’ve hesitated to take the effort to pull out coins from their native country to see my darling smile. Things would be different if I did the same now. Also, I’ve been a clever kid, and stored only those exam papers in which I’ve scored well, so that it would seem as if I was this bright kid who raced through all of school with the greatest ease. If it were not for the fact that my parents have cruelly saved my final report cards, which keep reminding me of the bitter truth, I would’ve safely assumed myself a born genius, and gone about declaring the same to the world of relatives and friends. There are also some forgettable memories, like a letter to some ashram or sabha, which my grandmother asked me to post some years back, and I promptly forgot. Or some toy, which I stubbornly demanded that I have, and is still lying in its original box, untouched by mankind.
Aside: Are my threads so alarming? I just got a call from the Tempe police as I was typing this post. And a sweet sounding lady asked, “Is everything alright?” I’m quite fine I assured her wondering when my posts started proving such a grave threat to society. Apparently, my phone dialed 911 of its own accord while in my pocket, and so they were calling to make sure nothing was the matter. Talk about next generation smart phones!
I’ve been suffering from an idenity crisis for about a week now. I’ve lost my ID card. Circumstances necessitated that I search for it. I ransacked my room; but failed to find the card. Then I decided to put things in order again; and still no luck. I repeated the whole cycle in vain. And I’m sure I can do it a million more times and I would not find it. Its certain the day I pay the fine and bring my new card home, I’ll find the old one. That’s where I like the idea of stores in the U.S. One can return most products within a certain period of time after the purchase if one is not satisified. I think this particularly helpful because if I were to buy, say, a pair of socks, and lose them, the easiest way for me to find them would be to go the store and buy myself another such pair. When I get home I’m sure to find the old pair, folded and sitting neatly on the clothes shelf. Then I can go back and return the new pair.
What amazes me about the search is the wealth of memories it brings back. This present search throwed up stuff that reminded me of my intial anxieties when I came here, my pleasant outings, my horrible score-sheets, my passionate collection of library fines, mile-long grocery bills and such like. And this search in turn reminded me off past searches. Almost every vacation I’d find I can’t find something or the other of tremendous value, and often most things of such exalted status, and I’d search my treasure chests. This search brings back many memories; Old class photographs to remind me of the days of innocence; Mickey mouse and Bata(back to school) book labels which remind me of the start of school. It used to feel horrible to return from vacations and have to go to school again, and as a form of protest I never bound my books. This greatly annoyed my mom, and she would remind me everyday to bind them, but I’d persist in my stubbornness, until a fair compromise would be reached in which I’d bring her the brown paper and the scissors, and she would do all the binding. Then I’ve found some old birthday cards which remind me of the people who gave them, and some other connected instances. Almost every birthday since my 6th standard remind me of that one particular birthday when I made a dent in my skull by smashing my head against the wash-basin while bathing and had to get several stitches on my forehead. It was also special because, at our home, we don’t have birthday parties, and that was my first party, when we bought a large cake to be cut, and had the house all lit-up in fancy lighting, and invited several of our(my brother and I have our birthday just three days apart and so we decided to have a combined party) friends from the neighbourhood. Then there’s my old, and fairly large coin collection. I also collected a few stamps. I was introduced to the terms philately and numismatics in my 4th standard, and I was so fascinated by the high-sounding nature of these two words that I decided I must be able to use them in my own life, and hence began collecting coins and stamps. Its sad that they are in such a disarray now. Its actually very interesting how I got most of my coins. When I was in the U.S. for a year in my 7th, I used to keep an eye out for foreign looking people in the neighbourhood, and unabashedly approach them and ask them if I they would give me some coins from their own country! I’ve even gone to the extent of knocking on doors at random and asking for coins. As a friend rightly said, I had a cute face then, and nobody would’ve hesitated to take the effort to pull out coins from their native country to see my darling smile. Things would be different if I did the same now. Also, I’ve been a clever kid, and stored only those exam papers in which I’ve scored well, so that it would seem as if I was this bright kid who raced through all of school with the greatest ease. If it were not for the fact that my parents have cruelly saved my final report cards, which keep reminding me of the bitter truth, I would’ve safely assumed myself a born genius, and gone about declaring the same to the world of relatives and friends. There are also some forgettable memories, like a letter to some ashram or sabha, which my grandmother asked me to post some years back, and I promptly forgot. Or some toy, which I stubbornly demanded that I have, and is still lying in its original box, untouched by mankind.
Aside: Are my threads so alarming? I just got a call from the Tempe police as I was typing this post. And a sweet sounding lady asked, “Is everything alright?” I’m quite fine I assured her wondering when my posts started proving such a grave threat to society. Apparently, my phone dialed 911 of its own accord while in my pocket, and so they were calling to make sure nothing was the matter. Talk about next generation smart phones!
2 comments:
Some of the best searches I've heard described :)
Haha...liked the article, though I confess the first thing that popped up in my head as I read the title was Google search. Was wondering how you could possibly make that interesting!
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