This blog is no longer being updated. Last post was “Farewell”.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Like most computer desks, mine has a sliding tray too. On its wooden surface rests the keyboard, alongwith a fading circular stain of the base of the coffee cup that I believe I had put there sometime in last winter. The third thing which lies on that tray is an old photograph — passport sized photograph of a younger me.
Some two weeks ago, my younger bro had brought this photograph to me. He was just going through some “old stuff” while cleaning his cupboards, and out of the junk that his cupboard produced came my picture. He was chuckling when he was giving it to me, stating, “hey, it’s you!”, and I couldn’t really blame him — I did look kind of funny. (Maybe that’s why I am not posting it here too!) But if I allow myself to be honest, almost all of my old photographs make me chuckle. Perhaps, I’ll always find my younger self to be funny (even though my present self might be a lot funnier, and pathetic).
I remember sliding that photograph under my keyboard, then sliding it back out and then flipping it. Every day I used to slide the keyboard tray out, find the photograph lying there upside down, pick it up, look at it, chuckle, shake my head, and then put it down again. Sometimes I played with its position on the tray, sliding it across the wooden texture as if trying to find some suitable coordinates for it, but in the end it was always the random positioning. Like, when I would slide the tray out, the resulting jerk would slide the picture by some certain force and angle according to all respective laws of physics. Similar was the case when I would slide the tray in.
If I remember correctly, I had that photograph taken so that it could be pasted on that form which we had to fill when appearing for the FSc’s 1st year exam. That would make the me on that photograph 17 years and some months old. I was wearing a simple shalwar qameez suit when I went to the photography studio, and borrowed one of the ties, which were present there for customers just like me. When I looked at the photograph for the first time, I marvelled how that tie flawlessly matched my qameez. Looking at the photograph after so many years, I marvelled again. And, of course, I chuckled too.
One thing that I can’t understand, and probably will never understand, is the younger me’s obsession over large glasses. Don’t get me wrong, this picture that I am talking about, I have a decent pair of glasses in it (although they are larger too than what I wear now), but if you look at some really old pictures of me, then there’s no way you can suppress the guffaw that is bound to escape your throat. An old friend of mine once admitted to me that when he first saw me, the first thing he noticed were my large glasses. And, just like I can’t blame my younger bro for chuckling, I can’t blame that friend of mine either: that big, plastic frame is still somewhere in the junk of my cupboards. I am completely satisfied with my current frame of glasses though. I think they add quite some pseudo-intellectual depth to my facial features.
Today I was looking at that photograph when suddenly I started comparing my present self with it. I have certainly lost that innocent, almost childish look that is there in the photograph. That is not to say that I have transformed into some kharraant scoundrel, but just that I have grown up. My hair have thinned (gasp!), my complexion has tanned, but I have learnt how to smile better while posing for a passport sized photograph.
But most of all, I miss having that sparkle in my eyes. And everything that that sparkle stood for.
Nah, I need to snap out of it. I am still too young to think like that.