Written when those memories were still fresh..
I still remember when I first stepped out at Heathrow. The gush of cold air. The people.THe englishmen.The NRIs. The sikh who offered me his mobile. The crowd with placards.
It was THE MOMENT. I remember thinking about how far away from home I was. I remember that feeling of an adventure - of finally doing something. I had that feeling - that rare feeling of actually living a dream. An experience you had looked up to for years - and finally living it. I could have spent hours and hours there.
I remember fiddlng with the coins and trying to work out my way with them. I remember trying to figure out the public telephone and asking people for help.
I remember being angry at my sister for being too 'busy' - yet at the same time happy for being alone and independent.
I am afraid one day I will forget it all. Or worse - I will forget how super out of the worldy awesome it was.Once I start travelling abroad frequently, will I not feel the same breath of excitement? Will I not look at the world with curious inquisitive marvelling eyes.Will I get used to it all, and forget the beauty and extraordinariness of it all? Will I get used to it?
Thats why need to pen it down.everything. the long walkalators and the helpful policement. The nepali guy who sat with me first time in the tube. The first time in the tube and the coulourful mix of people. The girl looking for arnos grove. the hefty arabic speaking/looking woman.
I will not forget stepping out in canary wharf plaza. The cold breeze.People in long overcoats. The christmas lights. The taxi who refused me a ride because my destination was too close. working my way round those skyscrapers, the roundabouts, jamie's italian to fraser place.
I will not forget walking in the sticky snow and looking at frasers place.The sudden warmth I felt stepping inside.
I will not forget the fragrance- the fragrance which inspired and urged adventure.
The best month of my entire life.
I still remember when I first stepped out at Heathrow. The gush of cold air. The people.THe englishmen.The NRIs. The sikh who offered me his mobile. The crowd with placards.
It was THE MOMENT. I remember thinking about how far away from home I was. I remember that feeling of an adventure - of finally doing something. I had that feeling - that rare feeling of actually living a dream. An experience you had looked up to for years - and finally living it. I could have spent hours and hours there.
I remember fiddlng with the coins and trying to work out my way with them. I remember trying to figure out the public telephone and asking people for help.
I remember being angry at my sister for being too 'busy' - yet at the same time happy for being alone and independent.
I am afraid one day I will forget it all. Or worse - I will forget how super out of the worldy awesome it was.Once I start travelling abroad frequently, will I not feel the same breath of excitement? Will I not look at the world with curious inquisitive marvelling eyes.Will I get used to it all, and forget the beauty and extraordinariness of it all? Will I get used to it?
Thats why need to pen it down.everything. the long walkalators and the helpful policement. The nepali guy who sat with me first time in the tube. The first time in the tube and the coulourful mix of people. The girl looking for arnos grove. the hefty arabic speaking/looking woman.
I will not forget stepping out in canary wharf plaza. The cold breeze.People in long overcoats. The christmas lights. The taxi who refused me a ride because my destination was too close. working my way round those skyscrapers, the roundabouts, jamie's italian to fraser place.
I will not forget walking in the sticky snow and looking at frasers place.The sudden warmth I felt stepping inside.
I will not forget the fragrance- the fragrance which inspired and urged adventure.
The best month of my entire life.
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