I completed 36 years of existence today. It is a day of mixed feelings for me every year. Not that I am afraid of growing up, being old, or of death; I just get reminded on this day that what I have lost. Yes, this is a bad thing but I miss the past always. If one asks me what is the most terribly tragic thing that happens to a human being, I would say only one. I am yet to experience the loss of parents but have gone through many other kinds of heartaches, breakups, academic failures, career breakdowns. And to me, the most tragic thing in life is the loss of innocence.

Some people are really lucky and strong enough to keep their innocence alive. However, the loss is the way of nature or maybe of the world. The things (possibly everything) one likes doing during childhood may be critical of when he/she grows up. The words such as ‘like’ and ‘love’ will be replaced by ‘appreciate’, ‘judge’, ‘admire’. The spontaneity becomes calculative. The intimacy becomes casual. The relationships which are supposed to be denser over time turn thinner.

I frequently recall events of the past – I had a friend at school from standard 1 to 3, then I moved to another city and returned to resume studies from standard 6 to 10 at Puri Zila School. On the first day at Puri Zilla School, I saw that old friend of standard 1 but he did not notice me as he failed to recognize me. We spent the last four years at the same school but we did not become friends. (however, I made a new friend there, who remained as my only friend till now) At college, I had developed a friendship that turned romantic to end in a marital relationship, however, after separation she did not notice me after having spent eight years of togetherness.

Sometimes I wonder how people grow apart. Yes, I know all the reasons but still, wonder. I see families: the siblings and cousins who were so close once become critical even intolerant of each other. I realize marriage and starting own family brings changes but I fail to believe that these relationships turn sour eventually. I am witnessing the jokes which were once accepted by my sibling or cousins are now not well received. For some members of the family, the relationship becomes business. Even if I provide mental or moral support, if I fail to help them financially, I won’t be of any value to them.

Innocence is perhaps something that is unconditional, uncritical, pure, and spontaneous. You accept everything, everyone – irrespective of values, qualities, conditions. Kids go on, have fun with every little thing, every being; bear no complaints, hold no grudges; let go of any worries. They fall, scratch their legs, cry and then forget everything and start running again laughing out loud. With the possession of maturity and knowledge, innocence withers.

Puri is my home – a place of love. As parents nowadays live with me in the capital, I get fewer opportunities to visit the sea town. Our home has a large terrace on which we, cousins used to play cricket when they visit during the holidays. Nowadays, it is lying mostly empty – kind of abandoned. Having stray cats as pets was our way of life. But after sister’s marriage, and now as everyone living outside, all cats have left which once was their castle. There is a dream I saw last night that I am playing cricket with only one cousin on the terrace of Puri home. It is dusk. The sky is cloudy but with a golden shine. I am bowling and he is batting. After a few shots here and there, I came and said to my cousin who is holding the bat in dilapidated condition – ‘I think it won’t sustain anymore. It will be the last shot – the last game on this terrace.’ It happened. It broke and I woke up.