Wistful Thought

Gogou Haokip *

A busy street in the center of Imphal City in November 2013 :: Pix - Deepak Oinam

I have lurked in my past for a numbered 28 years . Wonderful memories of my childhood haunts me now.

As a child growing up in close quarter, the street of Paona Bazar. every turn and cross, pit and drain, high and low marked indominantly Home.

The road wide Open, Houses mild, many a dear and near one wilfully tangled. The nostalgic rejuvenation of my past rekindle in me a regretfull memoirs bygone .

I could remember waking up to the early Sunday treat, my days Queued up to the holidays feed of hindi serials line up, and a follow up of Uncle Macdonals the Pride Duckling, Tom n Jerry the catch and chase cartoon, mesmerising Moogli the Jungle boy, adventerous Dragon ka beta Taroo and many more.

Soothing rhapsody to my ear and a delight to watch. The afternoon past on as easily playfully until the call for hunger drags me home heavy and weary.

And on all ordinary days the movie theatre never seems to attract me and my fellow anyless anyday. As hard working labourer toiling the mid summer days meeting daily bread and butter, we compared evenly with cluttering pocket ignorantly with thoughts, trying to add up our way to the movie shows.

Life bustle and jolted away unlikely with each seeming days. Gleed and glued on holidays the future looks bright in a platter. the abandoning don of the Social welfare Office Campus serve wildly our playground.

Young boys from our locality, me and my friends flog and adorned each corner to battle any mischievious game. Cricket and football, kabaddi or mukhna(wrestling), Dumpa Spike (Hide and seek) was all up on the menu and many more. Hitting sixes or goaling a ball many a door glasses did take a fall.

And then running away, scornfully chased by an elderly Care taker (my buddy dad) did top all the fun. Thumping heart and scarry- never say never darn care attitude, pumping young blood, hot headed we recuperate. Adventerous as it was, there were hardly days for one of us boys without getting soaked in a stain of blood .

Quarrels and fight was the call of the hour and it works wonder on that count. At Another ocassion around a distant,'The Pologround' a platform to woo western foreigners and meeting them in the game of polo.

I reckon a day a local manipuri girl pose to welcome foreigners at a garlanding Ceremony, she fled the scene when kissed on the cheek as purported to a handshake. Skipping on, In proximity going to school in the same neighbourhood completes the square in the hole pack of fun.

At school the boyish incitement of joy was never far behind. Although on another scale I was never convinced anyhow in my class as why the weakling and the smaller mates excell than the average and the bigger lot. Suspicious of their mastery on the score with books, I cooked up that they were gifted with extra brains in reserved.

Sometimes I do wonder now how they might be keeping up with life.

On a silly recap, One fine schooling day I betted than to be able to burn my palm stretched out on a lighted candle for a mere sum of 100 rupees condition for a just 1 minute. While i lost track of the Clock but it was the longest tick i know and it burns like hell, I won my Childish first prize money as i remembered.

A hefty sum for that time and age, I celebrated in jubilation. Summer Vacation was the mother of all holidays and Routinely falling along comes bags of holidays - The holi, yaosang, durga puja, diwali, it was a welcome wait.

Winter Vacation comes with added bonanza Christmas and new year and a wild shopping spree whipping the state Capital. As it seems the joy unending every waking day was a gift of blank canvas to be splatterd and spike.

After a long-haul The streets are narrowed in time, the buildings have overrun the town, the vehicles are ploughing densely, people void of care wink away, the roadside parking a menace. With one way traffic a disdain, water clogging everytime it rains, shops one over and under the other, ill maintained policing, improper sanitation management.

A sad bitter taste of unplanned town and cities turning out to be a commercial hub.

I wonder is this change the benchmark for development, and at what price!. The price shout rhetorically empty whence means meet ends. In times the Canvas in filling, the murky future and nostalgic past bleakingout out in collision, as I step on the walks of Life. Bemused with a million question in mind about how will the Canvas picture in another 28 years ?