When I was 3, then my father lived in Oak Park area at Mallital. I have fainted memory of the school where I did my LKG education. Its name was St John and was established in 1844 and is located near Mallital. I visualize big images of Jesus on the church glasses, LKG class on the first floor and UKG on the ground floor. And I remembered myself baffling with alphabets.
I have good memories of Buck Preparatory School, Nanital. I have completed my UKG from this school. The school was converted into hotel in 1994. Googled about the founder and got the name of Cynthia Buck. She at the age of 91, passed away peacefully on December 26, 2008, in Houston, Texas. Cynthia was a lifelong teacher. She favorably influenced countless lives through the private, preparatory school that she owned in Nainital, India for more than 40 years. Don't know about her few moments ago, now feel almost connected by an invisible thread. Retrieval of the images gives enjoyment. Hand filled with blood cut by rusty iron or getting prize in the dictation test from the principal.
My father is in the forest department. Hence, I grow up at remote places in Nainital for the first 5 years of life. Places were far from the city. I remember wooden houses, fear of going into surrounding jungle, playing with ice and algae or jumping on the terrace landscape; Mother used to remove leeches from my legs whenever I return home in the rainy season. I always watch hawks flying in the sky and myself pissing on the valley side edge of the mountain road. I don't remember faces or name of the people anymore and lot of experiences are lost with the time.
Life appears distant in reality and close in memories. We mature daily and one day few memories just return back and making us to feel like old. 20 years has passed since leaving Nainital and suddenly this nostalgic childhood experiences comes on the surface. People say that memories are deceptive truth. They drag us back in the past that doesn't exist. I disagree.
Memories reflect on the life of the person. Sometimes an inconsequential event, face or news sticks to our mind. It keeps on appearing and disappearing despite however irrelevant or mundane, it is or was. Few things captures moments about past and future. All they appear as dreamy, nostalgic or as if they never occurred to me. The person in the memory seems completely different and full of innocence...
What was there in the past has been lost somewhere along time. The myth is laid on the flimsy framework of reality. Everything is possible and probable now. I gaze everywhere in the room to capture a second forever. And suddenly moments pass. It just cease to exist. And I am new person in the present. The past was/is experience or hallucination... just don't know. Is there any need to know also ?