Nostalgia

This time it is different. Shades of nostalgia, highly variable, clogged with emotions are running high and frantic.
It is like clouds. Changing colour, shape and mobility. Wanting to cry aloud, cry uninterrupted like a child. Wanting to revisit the past with no burden of future lurching over it. Wanting to be with them, there. It is certainly different this time around.
May be short but sweet duration of togetherness have left its trail in me. May be the longevity of the inevitable separation is harassing me. May be the new occasions and platform of happiness is squeezing me. Cannot pull out one single thing from this bizarre jigso. But this time around, nostalgia is not that sweet as I would usually claim it to be. It is distressing, sometimes saddening.
Yes, this time it is different. May be time with disperse these clouds. May be sunshine will soon unveil my vision. But the love in these clouds will certainly rain on me hoping to raise a seedling deeply embedded. It will rise tall as the symbol of my longing, my hope for the next tryst with my past.