The years lost...

Why is it that when i think of my childhood these days i get a feeling of poignant sadness? A feeling of a wonderful time lost with the weathers of growing up? Yea, i know everybody is supposed to feel that way about their childhood.. the yearning to go back in time and experience the pure innocence which only a child can feel.

I came across a facebook community recently, which was devoted to the city of Jubail, Saudi Arabia. This was where i spent a good part of my formative years, between 1986 and 1994. The pictures touched a chord within me that has left a deep imprint. I remembered everything suddenly... Fanateer area, the Farm 2 shopping center, the Commissary, the beaches, our wonderful house, and best of all, my old school.. the Jubail British Academy. The school which i still consider the best of my life... where i made some of the best friends of my life (although as it always happens with the friends u have when you're 10 years old, you lose touch with most of them). We were Indians. We were also Pakistanis, British, Canadians.. it never seemed to matter. I remember i especially had quite a few Pakistani friends there. I remember Adnan, Najeeb, and others. Sadly, I have no idea whatever happened to them after that, though that hasn't stopped me from thinking.

The city itself was a quiet, peaceful and clean industrial city. Not exactly what we would have called 'happening', but one of those places which you know you will just miss and long for when you're gone. As with most middle eastern cities, it was developed, orderly and comfortable. I remember the nice parks, the beautifully laid out roads with date palms lining the sides... which made them perfect to take a bicycle ride with friends or to go for a walk with your parents. Maybe i feel this way because its where i was a child. Where i was in the most innocent part of my life. The time when friendships and relations were untainted by feelings of disappointments, petty jealousy and sexual attraction to the opposite sex. When liking a girl and approaching her meant asking her to be your partner in the art class and nothing more. I remember her... the German beauty who i liked in class 2 and asked to work with me in art class. I remember her Golden hair and wide eyes. And i remember the pure simple joy i felt when the next time she asked me to be her partner. Wonder whatever happened to her.

Growing up is inevitable. And the slow loss of innocence is also inevitable. Which is probably why the best years of your life may seem bittersweet when looking back. Because it has been tainted since then by all the memories of things which came after. The disappointments, the heartbreaks, the self realizations. I dont know if i ever will go back to Jubail and Fanateer... and I'm not sure when i do, if i will feel the way i used to about the place.