In a fraction it brought back a series of blinding pictures.
It was my favourite, it was indespensible to me, as I grew up I let go of it . It never let go of me and even today hiding behind the closet, dusty and smelly it succeeds in making me smile.
The freshness in old memories,
The clarity in what faded away,
The rythmn in the meaningless noise,
Such is the charm of all old things.
We create memories,which cling to our old friends , our old people .
The way our old people know us no one can. They touch strings hidden behind the closet. It's all fancy , but what's behind the closet means so much more than what is in it.
They know the hurt you've put behind, the joy given up , the inpiration that pushed you is now lying behind the closet .
It's good to peep sometimes , never know what could suddenly,unknowingly light your soul .
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