No matter how happy and successful we are in the present our nature tends to pull us back or push forward, and then we are lost in daydreams or reminiscing. I, personally, considered it a waste of time and rarely wished to wind up in some other place. Time-travel, no matter how appealing, seemed like a practice of escapism. Until, I landed in my own past.
We were having a wonderful time with my colleagues, road tripping and bonding over ridiculous things, when I saw the place. The place that I have visited twelve years ago with my family, and it shouldn’t have been such a revelation, but it was.
I walked the wooden paths, looking at the figurines of animals, and the ghost of my younger self was staring back at me. Suddenly, I felt colder and smelt the rain in the air. I shuddered and put a jacket on.
It was significantly colder that day. We arrived in the evening. Annoying drizzle was wetting our clothes, but we paid no mind, running around wet grass and nudging our mother to take pictures. She grumbled half-heartedly and took thousands.
It was the first time, since the death of our father, when we laughed so freely…so joyfully…
I smiled gingerly, brushing the old railings and took a huge breath. The air felt warmer, but it still was filled with carefree happiness of the good old days.