We have a lot of responsibilities that come with growing up. If you are a college student, you have to study. If you are not privileged enough, you work. If you are of legal age, you vote. Once you graduate, you find a decent job. And come election time, of course, you vote. A lot of paper works, appointments, taxes to pay, bills to pay, new tasks to do...
That sometimes, the things we cherished when we were still young tend to get pushed back to the recesses of our subconscious minds. Digging up the memories of the past is like going up the attic and searching through the old memories hidden from inside the chest box.
I suddenly realized this when I was riding a public vehicle to the mall because I wanted to have my wristwatch fixed. During the journey, when the vehicle stopped, I noticed a house, and I thought that the house looks familiar. One of the occupants of the house happened to be my music teacher in high school. Another occupant used to be a Biology teacher of some of my friends, though I am not sure if she still lived there.
While I was going home after I learned that my watch could not be fixed, I suddenly remembered another house, which was a few meters away from my teacher’s house. I remembered the place so well, though I was not sure if it still stood there.
And the next day, I passed by the same vicinity again to go to the mall to buy a new wristwatch. I took note of my route, and there, I saw the same old wooden house behind the high walls and the high black gate. The house was still there, though it had become a very important building related to the state.
And so, my memories came flooding again. And I reminisced them fondly.
It had been some years ago, and I will not tell you how long, when my music teacher told me to join a concert for a national celebration. At first, I hesitated, but I joined. I joined because I had been a part of the glee club in first year of high school. My whole summer was spent on practicing at that big house, and during breaks, we would also go to the house of my teacher.
The memories I had of the house were very memorable. I was part of the choir, and sometimes, our practice would run late in the evening. I met a few friends there, including my teacher’s nephew who was still a medical student at that time.
During the last few days of practice before the big day, we spent less time at the big house, and more on the actual venue. However, between the actual venue and the big house, I was fond of the big house more. In fact, when I browsed through the musical pieces that I still had, what I remembered was the big house most often.
I really am not that good in describing my memories at all. Not at all. I tend not to describe the way authors describe things in the novel. I am more of the business writing style, so, sorry for that.
I just want to tell my readers that despite the busy things in life, it is good to get back to your yesterdays and think back of the good old times. It can help you gain perspective and move on to the future.
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