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A funny feeling

Am home... on account of my mother having fractured her hand...

Now the funny part is coming home... When you leave home... your identity is packe din bags and cartons and shelved. When you come home, you find all things .. old and musty... in cartons... and if you open one... ahh the memories they come flooding back...

the old newspapers in which you got published, the table tennis rubbers you won tournaments with, the letters, the flowers, the hankerchiefs... the broken pens, the old reports, the fiery ideas, old business plans, the diaries and journals... the penknives, the plaster-of-paris items, the photographs..

Then there is this comp.. A vintage 1999, 733 Mhz Pentium III... converted to a cluster (married to an older computer..sister's.. 1997 Pentium II 350 Mhz).. dual boot, running linux and windows... Ahh this computer.. it made me alivbe... the hacks i did.. the pranks i did... the hours i spent on it.. laboring though linux codes... those beautiful emacs windows... and then life meant so much more...

And then there are those smells... trying to smell a 5 year old rumaal... all twisted and yellowed.. i can assure you its all musty... but the act of sniffing it and imagining what it smelt then... is a pleasure.. that can be a life time...

And then you see the clothes... the torn jeans... the yellowed t-shirts.. All my beautiful jeans... seven of them.. waiting for me to get back to 32"... they love me and so do i...

And then there is this feeling of sinking... letting go of time... and wondering if the time spent was well spent... All bogus and reassuring thoughts...

Anyhow... much said.. its great to be back home... Its great to know that life can be comfortable... and not unidimensional... Come the weekend and we will see the deluge of relatives... (50+) .. and am bracing up for that...

So love me god... and wish me luck...

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