In this fast-paced world, you don’t get a lot of time to reminisce. There aren’t a lot of moments when you get to just sit down and ponder about what all happened in the last year. Or the last decade. You are always busy, juggling with stuff, with a toast in one had and a cigarette in the other. If you choose to stay alone, people start sympathising with you.

“Why aren’t you going somewhere? It’s a long weekend. Did something happen?”

No, nothing happened.

But they won’t stop for you. They shouldn’t. It’s a long weekend after all. They gotta drink, then watch some stuff, drink more, Tinder, make plans for lunch, then for brunch, then invite someone over for dinner again, drink even more. Oh, and its Monday again. Well, what a good weekend it was.

I was watching some TV series today. I spent the whole day glued to my TV. Episode after episode. They just kept playing. It was 3 pm. Then 4. Then 9. And I just kept consuming. Then in the middle of an episode, I just turned off the television. Just like that. A part of me was curious to watch what happened in the rest of that episode. But the rest of the body didn’t care. It reminded me of how I used to turn off the TV when my sister used to watch it. Back in Delhi. Like 10 years ago. She was younger than me. And autistic. She would wake up at 4 in the morning and play Dexter’s Lab at full volume. My parents developed the habit of sleeping through that sound. Parents somehow always find a way to do that. Just letting their kids be themselves. However, I, on the other hand would wake up, shout, and ask her to shut it down. She wouldn’t. So I would snatch the remote, turn it off, and put it under my pillow. That was the safest locker I had back then. Putting stuff under my pillow. Sometimes, I would get creative too and put stuff inside the pillow cover. Anyway, so she would cry. But eventually sleep. And I went through this routine every day of my childhood, as far as I can remember. We often had huge fights about it. Sometimes, my dad would wake up and take my sister to his room, and he himself would come back and sleep on the couch. She would go back to my parent’s bedroom while cursing me the whole time. “Nau bees nahi hai. Sab uth. Utho”, she would say. She didn’t know how to tell time or how to even say things properly. But my parents and I were well versed in her secret language. The above sentence meant, “It’s not that early. Everyone has woken up already. You guys should too”. She probably would have added some abuses as well if she knew how to say them. Nau Bees was her template time. To convey anything about time, whether it’s about getting late or early, or if its time to watch her favourite show’s twenty seventh rerun, she would say “nau bees ho gaye”. I think nau bees is easy to pronounce, maybe that’s why. When I look back, I guess whenever the clock would strike 9:20, at least three people in my family would smile. It’s probably a memory she has planted in all of our minds.

Anyway, so what was I talking about? Yeah, sometimes, in this fast-paced world, you should just sit down, stop everything and reminisce. Maybe the smile you have been chasing the whole day, might be captured somewhere in the past. From time to time, try to pluck it. It feels good. Oh damn, it’s 9:20. Phew.

Guess, I should play the episode back.


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