Edited by: Shivani Panigrahy
The word ‘nostalgia’, stems from two words: nostos (homecoming) and algos (longing). It was initially used to describe an affliction amongst Swiss soldiers, but as migration grew, this condition became widespread amongst those away from home. Soon, the definition evolved to describe a more pleasant experience of longing for the past in general or its elements.
The point is that we, as humans, crave things that we lost along the way. The aroma of Bournvita milk filling the junior school corridors, the intro song of Doraemon or the sight of opening a new Poppins packet: these are some places, activities and products that remind me of my childhood, my past. (While we’re at it, quickly name 3 things that remind you of yours.)
But what about creations, your creations from the past? They were carriers of your passion, built with love and care. Now, they sleep in the corners of your room or stay silent in your Instagram archives.
How do you look back at them? Do you look back? Do you want to go back? Do you long for them?
One fine day, I went through all the ‘quotes’ I wrote a few years ago. And let me tell you, a wave of embarrassment and disgust knocked me down the sandy floor. All that was visible to me were the mistakes. I proceeded to mock them for a good twenty minutes. Now, even if I don’t approve of the fonts or the diction I used back then, it still wasn’t all meaningless. The words were strung together to fulfill a purpose. To taunt a friend? To mark my identity? To motivate (someone)? Maybe you don’t relate to those emotions anymore. The muse is distant now. You’ve moved on. Yet, there tends to be a soft corner for these pieces. Or, it is also possible that you might have been completely harsh towards yourself while reading these. You just want to conceal them and disassociate yourself from these creations. Irrespective of the case, they represent your growth. They tell you how differently you engage with your reader now, how your style has evolved, how your priorities have changed. For the present self, reading old work becomes helpful to nurture yourself as a writer, to respect your roots. But what about the past self?
Did that self seek reassurance from you? Was it writing for this day? How would they react? Will they be in awe? Did they even see this day coming? Did they expect you to continue with writing? I feel my younger self wanted to write just to find her voice. She didn’t dream about writing this article today, maybe because she was indifferent to the future in a way. However, I know she surely would appreciate that even with inconsistencies and insecurities, we persisted.
Coming back to the present self, I remain nostalgic about my previous work. Not because of anything else, but the time. Of course, I am not referring to the shitty part of high school, but you remember those simpler times with less responsibility, when (and if) you had the privilege to feel more protected from the real-world issues? So, yes, I do want to go back. I want to be hit by those waves again. I want to roast myself again. If you want, I will read this article again in the future. Only to experience those feelings again. What about you?