A moment of nostalgia..
This essay, in many ways is a confession. Perhaps Nostalgia is a better word. And it came upon me last Sunday, as I tuned into Netflix to watch an old Sophia Loren and Cary Grant movie “Houseboat”. It is a film that touches a very deep, sensitive chord within me for a reason very different from what I am used too. It evokes memories of my first, and probably the only episode of puerile infatuation with a girl in my life. It’s a strange feeling; and it has lingered on like a shadow after nearly twenty five years now. A thousand more beautiful, captivating and interesting faces and minds have passed before my eyes, but her’s still remains resplendent in my mind. When I close my eyes, I vividly see her fair skin, dove like eyes, clad in a spotless cream Salwar, walking, smiling, and talking with lissome feminine grace that marks the fresh touch of maturity. It all happened at an age when distinct stirrings of one’s manhood uncoils itself, and the body is infused with an uncomfortable ye