Legacy, not yet...

I am back in Pune:
Where I met Soma and Sunil.
Where the literary club was born.
Where I had my first Barista coffee.
Where I saw my first multiplex movie.
Where it had rained incessantly the last time I was here.
Where people walked between us and doors opened and closed leaving us in a spectrum of light and darkness when we talked while you were leaving.
Where we made cold calls to probable candidates one fine Sunday.
Where we saw the moon like never before.
Where Leena came down to meet me and we went to Mumbai.
Where Jeba, Anish, Sashi, and I had a blast watching Malena and S & L on a projected screen in our flat.
Where we walked and talked and dreamed of things beyond us.

I was downloading few more e-books (Ones that I had always wanted to read. Never got paid enough; never saved enough.) from the Project Gutenberg collection on the Net.

It dawned that anything you own is kind of a legacy that you leave behind… Few love stories; short love stories; unrequited love stories; epic love stories; a manuscript with Busybee’s autograph in it; Soma’s strand of hair; coffees at Barista (not just any Barista, the one at Bandstand); Bigfish; stamps, books, movies, memorabilia, souvenirs, football jerseys, crockery, events, stories, fairytales, fables, those days in the rain…

I saw sights that brought back memories: sketch express photograph counter, phir milenge, E-Square, Shades, f-cube, Interiors, rupees 4,500 worth sunglasses, the bamboo plant, the vegetable vendor, Pashan-Sus Road, the HDFC ATM…

Pune has not changed much: It is raining heavily outside even now as I write this. Baner has more buildings; the rents have moved up the money graph; the road is in tatters. Signboards still scream: “Go Slow. Work in Progress.”