An Affair to Remember

I have never been attached in any place in general. One reason for that is because my father was in the Army, and the whole routine of moving to a new place every two years made me detached from places- and even people. Moving to a new place meant making a new home, making new friends and making new memories.

Which is why it caught me by surprise when I was close to tears while moving from my present hostel room.

I have been living in a single room all by myself for the past two years. Usually one tends to get attached to a place by virtue of the people there. But as a result of my irregular timings, I hardly knew any of the other girls in hostel. The occasional talk that I had with them was in the common kitchen, limited to Hi's and Hello's and boring weather talk- or in the common TV hall, limited to a unanimous criticism or praise of the ongoing television program. "It's definitely not the company that I am going to miss" I thought to myself...

Then what is it? Why do I feel a little sad as I am all set to move out of this room?!

It is an ordinary room by all means- a modest space enclosed by four walls and a ceiling, two half functional windows and a balcony. There is an old steel cupboard, a bed, a desk and two chairs that it houses.

But those four walls have been an expression of my joy, sorrow, love and happiness through all the posters that I made myself and put on them. That ceiling has provided me the comfort of a roommate as I sometimes lay wide awake in bed at night staring at it. That cupboard has seen my rage as I banged its doors shut- and it has seen my helplessness as I once clinged onto the door and fell to the floor crying after a particularly difficult day. That forlorn bed has welcomed me to rest even when most living people close to me were not there for me- it has felt my twists and turns through nervous anxiety- it has seen me wake up after wonderful ecstatic dreams and it has felt the scared grip on my fingers as I woke up from terrifying nightmares- it has soaked in my tears and sobs. Those desk and chairs have been like my daily diary, more a part of my routine than my most intimate family/friends. That balcony has been witness to my love and pain alike on silent nights as I watched the moon come up over the dark old trees silhouetted against its faint calm light. It is the violet flowers spread out in that balcony which have given this blog its name. All these have been the most intimate witnesses to my life in the past two years.

This room has been my equal partner in my first tryst with complete independence. And it never let me feel the absence of a living counterpart. And that is what makes it so special. I have never had any particular problem bidding farewell to people- but a farewell to this small room has me up in knots.

But as they say- farewells should never be unhappy. Though I am sad leaving this room behind, I am equally sure that I will make a new friend in my new place. It will be a new home. I will always have fond memories of this first home of mine. And that's how life is- old memories and young hopes!