Friday, October 07, 2011

Nostalgia's warm embrace

Somewhere in the realm of the quiet and nostalgic, I swim through memories of forgotten days.  They always seem like other lives.  Lost lives, perhaps.  Lives that exist only in memory while I toil in the present.  Days in the diagonal city of silver.  Or cities of blue, of pink, of gold.  Sometimes, I reach in my bag and pull out hostel receipts, museum entries, train tickets or bus fares from far-away lands.  Madras to Villivakkam, 5 rupees only.  Manila Bay dorm, 350 pesos.  2 ringgit to enter Ft. Cornwalis in Penang.  As if I stowed these tickets in the deep recess of memory's pockets, only to pull them out for a nostalgia's warm embrace.  

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