A Place to Go

People leave, and sometimes it is forever

And, there is no going back ever

I lost someone dear

But, I also lost a place to go

To do the things that I used to

And be that person when I am with them

That is gone forever too


And, I realize all we have is memories

To fall back on, in times such as this

Then, I cannot help but wonder

About those memories that were never made

Because, we did not tell things to each other

Those words could have been my place to go

If only it was spoken in time.


Reminiscing the past

Recently, I went to this resort for a friend’s wedding. I had gone there several times before when I was a little kid, with my parents and brother. I remember sitting in the balcony overlooking the river and having hot cutlets with ketchup. And, several years later when I stepped into the same place, it never felt the same; not the place, not the river, not the taste, or the excitement.


Why does somethings feel so much better in our memory? And, however much we try to recreate it; it is never ever the same.

There are people that I think of with such fondness, the warmth of them in my thoughts is no longer there today.

There are places that create totally opposite and often conflicting feelings now than before.

But worst of all, when I look back, there is a different me that I see. And, I am not sure if that person is better than what I am now- but we sure are different.

I try to reach out to her, but she seems to walk away from me.


The other day my husband (may be out of his own nostalgia) bought this soap (Chandrika- a South Indian Brand), and he seemed very excited. I also could not contain my excitement (yes, I find happiness in little things). I remember that back in Palakkad, I used to walk into the bathroom that smells heavenly of this soap after coming home from school or playing. The smell of rain, wet soil and soap!

It was raining that day as well. I tried to teleport myself to those times. But it was never the same.

And, from a distance, a song seeped into my head from depths of my soul.

The poignant lines by eminent Malayalam poet O.N.V Kurup

ഓർമമകൾക്ക് എന്ത്  സുഗന്ധം, എൻ ആത്മാവിൻ നഷ്ട സുഗന്ധം

“Ormakalkkenthu Sugandham, En Aathmaavin Nashta Sugandham”, loosely translated (failing miserably ) as “The fragrance of memories, the lost fragrance of my soul”

And, I have the song stuck in my head ever since.


For those of you who want to listen to the song, here is the link . Forget the video and language, may be you will be able to relate to the feel. May be you will not. And, that is precisely my point!

Letter to the guy from past!

I have always loved this place for so many reasons, but it also brought us together. The last few times I was here, somethings felt different. It is bitter-sweet to say the very least.

This silly heart pulls a trick on my overworked brain into believing that memories we made here are delusions. Like, it almost never happened; that I made it all up. But, it was all very real. We had walked on these very roads-carefree, happy and most importantly hopeful. There is not a curve, turn or a tree here that has not shared a moment with us.


The light headed feeling of a hopeless romantic, how I miss that! It is not too often now, but I see it in you once in a while. When you throw your head back and laugh when I do something stupid, and your eyes become tiny slits, when you pull my leg. I see it once in a while, like the specks of grey hair that has started to appear on your head.

And, this place just makes it all come alive, all at once. I walk around the corner, look at the old books, and gifts, and I see you from the past. I feel like the girl from ten years ago.

And, when you come over this time, I don’t want to make memories. But, live it all one more time.