What Keeps You from Writing: Reflections on Change and Nostalgia
It was a simple travel, driven by a long-cherished dream to revisit my grandmotherrsquo;s home after seven long years. Laying beneath the vast arc of blue sky, I felt a mystical stir as I warmly approached the familiar destination, Nani Maarsquo;s house. However, the warm embrace of my childhood memories was quickly replaced by a sense of unfamiliarity. The humble mud-brick home, a central hub of countless cherished moments, had vanished, only to be replaced by a strikingly new edifice that was eerily empty, a stark contrast against the bustling city that had taken over its former sanctuary.
The Journey and Its Ironies
The path to my destination was a journey in itself, a twist of fate led by the all-knowing Google Maps, guiding us with a misleading promise of the shortest route. What began as clear directions ended up being a winding, meandering journey that led to a stranger, uncharted world. The irony was palpable, a blend of humor and frustration that fueled our laughter and wonder. Not far from our destination, two figures caught our attention, their imposing presence and careless guns adding an unexpected twist to the narrative, reminiscent of a suspense film scene.
What struck me most profoundly, however, was the newly instituted system of garbage collection that had permeated to Nani Shehar. As the village transformed, each morning brought a sight of clean streets, yet the roadsides seemed burdened with fresh scars of plastic and debris, a paradox in the making. The cleaner we became, the dirtier we seemed to get; a stark realization that technology and progress do not always bring the desired purity.
A Symbol of Transformation
Watching the evening light dance on the water of the pond, I felt a sense of comfort. Like a butterfly subtly floating by, it was a reminder of the timeless, untroubled beauty that still exists. A butterfly, delicate and serene, a symbol of hope that even in the midst of change and uncertainty, there is still a sense of connection and beauty to be found.
Reflections on Writing
What, then, keeps us from writing, from expressing these profound reflections and memories? Is it fear, or perhaps the thought that it may not mean anything to anyone? Or is it simply the belief that the world is too noisy, too chaotic for our stories to find a place?
The truth is, our stories, the reflections of our lives, are what make us who we are. Writing, whether it be through literature, poetry, or even simple prose, is a form of expression that can bridge the gap between the known and the unknown. It is a way to connect with the world and with ourselves, to bring a sense of clarity and closure to our own lives, and to share the beauty of our experiences with others.
Ultimately, the only thing that truly keeps us from writing is the fear of response. But who cares? Our stories and reflections matter, whether they are heard or not. The act of writing itself is a journey of self-discovery, and it is through this journey that we find the strength and courage to continue.
In conclusion, the journey of revisiting an old place, the reflections on change and nostalgia, and the act of writing remind us of the importance of cherishing our past, embracing the present, and finding the strength within ourselves to continue on our journey.