And if I am so nostalgic at this age, what will i do at 60?
In my opinion, nostalgia is just another word for homesickness, except nobody can tell you where home is anymore. It’s strange what survives. I don’t remember what I learnt in school in the previous years. I remember praying for rain because rain meant there was a chance school would be cancelled. Not because I hated school. I loved school. But a rainy day belonged to no one. It escaped the timetable. The whole world felt unofficial. Even the adults became softer. We’d spend the afternoon wrapped in blankets, and I genuinely believed life would always have days that forgot to happen properly. Maybe that’s what childhood was. Days that forgot to happen properly. Nothing was productive. Nothing was documented. It simply existed. Nobody was trying to preserve anything. We didn’t interrupt afternoons to take pictures because it never occurred to us that afternoons could end forever. The first time I woke up at four in the morning to go cycling with my friends, it didn’t occur to me that on...
