Why do we always look back and feel that the best days were the days that we left behind. The best time was the time gone by. Is it that the past was more attractive or alluring? Or is it that the future seems more unsure and harsh? Is it because we have deftly handled the incidents that defined our past and have survived their onslaught? Or are we a little frightened as to what the future holds for us that makes us uneasy and to an extent wobbly?
The past beckons to me in a way that is sweet and filled with warmth. That was the time when my family was together. When everyone, my parents, brother and sister and myself would jostle in our small house to get ready and reach our destinations for work. We would then spend cozy evenings at home sharing our daily experiences and laughing at the idiosyncrasies. We hardly knew in those days that in times to come we would separate and scatter away, being blown away by our search for sustenance and by our ambitions. We had unknowingly created memories that I still hold on to. Those are powerful to make me feel happy and ecstatic. Looking back, I crave for those days in the past which when compared to the present time seem lovely and filled with love and energy. A halo encompasses those days in the past. I long for them.