Cherishing our memories
Sometimes on the wings of memories, I travel fast, faster than imagination even, to the bright lanes of my past. The other day I found myself passing in the narrow and tortuous alleys of Homermandan and Sarshaqam that I have not seen for so many years. I wanted to revisit my middle school days when I used to go through this then-shortcut path to Jumhuri school, to Baxi Gishti and Berkhaneqa market. I saw the phantom of my classmates at my sides, heard their voices, paid no attention to the swearing of the bullies on the corners who sometimes used to bully us because we were from the other neighborhood of Qarachawa passing through their jurisdiction! The area had changed a lot and I hardly recognized the location of the bakery where I sometimes used to go and queue for hours to get 10 loaves of hot bread. Although I did not remember where it used to stand, I felt the dignity of the tall tree on which a stark had a nest and used to return every spring to lay eggs and breed a new generation before migrating in autumn to the warmer lands. And there was a Qawurma “sandwich of chickpeas” seller that I can never forget. He had the best qawurma in the area which he used to sell at home just behind the door of his muddy house. Most of the mornings I used to spend my daily pocket money there. On the way to school I used to peek through the door and ask for a qawurma which he made by spreading the ground chick peas on half a loaf of bread and adding some curries and few leaves of leek which I now think were hardly washed at all! It was so delicious that it has given me a permanent like for qawurma. Even now I eat it from time to time at home, albeit never as tasty as that one!
I enjoy traveling back to my memories from time to time and I think it makes my present more pleasant. It is a pity we are so busy with our daily routines that we frequently forget to celebrate our past, not only the wonderful times but all.