A Blogger keeps posting because he wants his blog to remain alive and read as widely as possible. Most of the blogs are dedicated to a specific subject. There are professional bloggers who for the obvious reason to attract more traffics insist on covering those subjects which are current market craze. Like life-style, traveling and making money in as many ways as possible. Though I am not a professional blogger, it was just out of freak I started once blogging with my childhood memories. It began with the famous Google’s social network site: Orkut. I kept postings few in a series till my childhood days at my hometown where I was born and brought up was covered. It was a industrial town, where my father served and I was born, schooled. It was a industrial town, where we lived in a quarter, that I used to consider as our home, without realizing what a home meant. This I realized in my late teens, when I joined Air Force and understood that town I belonged to, never belonged to me. With the retirement of my father a decade later, we left the township, never to return again but the memories lingered. Thank god, it was not a abrupt cut-off, like those who left their native place for ever while India was gaining freedom through partition. For no less than 10-12 years after I left the town for my place of posting, in every year, while on leave I use to visit my parents and the township. This kept renewing the relations with my friends who were still there. With every passing years their numbers dwindled, one after another started leaving the town. Some were getting jobs; some were just leaving as their parents went on superannuation. We knew we part to never meet again. But rapidity of the incidents on my every visit, made me forget the pain of such last meetings. In fact I hardly met them again. Even when I met them, either I failed to recognize or they!
In the virtual world of web, it offers the opportunity to meet or trace your lost friend or one whom you knew or loved. When I had access to it, I tried. Whom I tried for , never met but met those whom I never expected; either I forgot or I never met them earlier. People from same home town bring back the memories, color again the faded pictures in your mental frame. Nostalgic journey through your memory lane, is sometime pleasant; sometime painful, depending upon the path you cover. It reminds me '42' of George Orwell and warns not to visit the place searching memory ever again. Still the yearnings for visiting that “town never belonged to me” persists and likely to persist till I live. Searching the lost memories attached to the place years ago brings frustrations----------- such adage does not prove much deterrent. Can one suggest me something better?