Saturday, June 09, 2007

Realisation that my road to nowhere starts from Malory Towers and goes up to Jaisalmer (NOT the city, just hypnotism and globetrotters and Mukul), wounds through Blandings and meets up with the muddy pathways of Nishchindipur.

Yellow-brick-roads need to be found. Quick.

Sometimes I wonder at how pat I have my childhood down. Books and songs and certain conversations. And 12 years giftwrapped and delivered at your doorstep. Just like that.

8 comments:

oliver said...

but isn't that good?

the one who must be named. someday. said...

hmmm. witch of oz. or pause.
uff. im sorry i dont make a lotta sense, miss sense-ational.

panu said...

shona sabai jodi dorothy hoto tobe duniya te beshi blue colored smock thakto na.

Shamash said...

tui ajkal khub nostalgic hoegechis

Diviani said...

If you wrote /Children's Fiction/ (whatever THAT is), you'd give Rowling a run for her millions..

"sen"sational said...

@oliver - not really. some things shouldn't be defined, you know?

@sonai - miss you too. :( where art thou?

@panu - point taken. :P

@shamash - i always was. :)

@diviani - *blushes a violent purple and looks away*

scorpionragz said...

man! U remember everything about ur childhood? Mine is just all tangled up inside my head, and half the time i feel like I can't find a memory i should have put somewhere. my memory is monica's messsiest closet.

onnesha said...

mine starts from mr pink whistle and the far away tree and i havent yet figured where exactly it went from there.
(p.s...hwatever was wrong with "huh"?u aint clueless anymore?)