Memories lurk. In the corners they lurk. The clouds suddenly part and out pours a memory stream. Every time a memory makes an comeback I am awestruck at the greatness of the human creation. I savour the memory and promise not to cry over it.

Fact – Promises are meant to be broken.

I remembered and cried over these

Image souce: Ebay

I was young – very young probably around 4 or 5 years of age and it was a great fun outing – an outing to my grandfather’s office in Trichy. An office with airconditioner keeping the room cool. A place where I was served orangey goodness – Gold Spot without fail.

I wish I could remember more about the place. I do not. I remember climbing up a set of winding stairs in the lobby to get to his office. Even this I think is a reflection of my last visit to see one of his successors a decade or so ago not a memory from my childhood. I think I remember more of the office based on some pictures I have. I wish I had more pictures. I remember summer after summer sitting down and going through the old photo albums under the telephone stand. Pictures from my grandfather’s China trip were a favorite. I wonder what happened to the albums. Are they still around? Moth-eaten? I wish I could get them.

I am going off-track. This is the problem with memories – they are connected, looped and jammed. Getting back to the topic – I hate when my memory does not fill in all the gaps like now. I wish I could “see” the whole view in my mind and relive. I wonder if the office had windows, what views did it offer? Did my grandfather ever graze out and ponder over life just like I do often? I am quite sure he did not have pictures of family decorating his office like I do but that is more an assumption than a memory. What kind of calendar did he have? Did he have a diary? Where are those diaries today? I wish I could read them. Maybe I can feel a closure when I do it? Maybe not.

I remember walking to the desk and my grandfather smiling at me. He was wearing his navy blue suit. Thinking back, it was probably my favorite suit. I did not like the green suit or the ugly blue safari he wore. Years later, my taste still remains the same – my first power suit was also a navy blue one. I hate green or pale blue suits.

I remember falling in love with the glass paper weights. They were beautiful. I do not think them to be beautiful today but in those days it was a masterpiece – beautiful. I recall picking it up and rolling it in my small hands. I remember my grandfather warning me to be careful. I shook the paper weight and called the pretty orange and yellow spots inside it – flowers. My grandfather smiled. I asked him if I could water the flowers – he laughed.

Anyone knows where I can get one of these paper weights in India or Singapore ? I might find them not so beautiful, they may have no practical use in the digitial life I live but I want them on my office desk – a small bit of my childhood.

P.S: I type these words in as an afterthought. I remember another paperweight – an all green glass one. I remember sneaking upstairs into a forbidden room and opening cupboards that are not to be opened in search of treasures. An age when I believed that every treasure in the cupboard by right belonged to me – ahh – the age of innocence.