musings at 11.45 pm

it is 11.45 pm on a sunday night. and other than a desperate attempt to enjoy all that i can of my weekend before it fades away, i cant think of a reason for this post, or for even staying up and working/playing on my laptop. but it is at such stray moments that some deeper thoughts come to mind, and make you think about them. today, the thought of my room came to mind - i cant really refer to it in the singular, cos i have moved considerably. but i am really talking about the first 'room' i had to myself, back in india, where i spent the a large part of my childhood.

what i do feel, looking back after all these years, is this - had i had access to some junk furniture and paint, i could have done wonders. sadly it wasn't within my reach. my first room in india was pre-designed with built-in shelves and cupboards, and a large part of the design was dominated by my parents' decisions of what was good/relevant/workable. it had a balcony attached, but that was used later to store a bicycle (i remember the bike too well - i caught my little finger in its brakes once, and it has been slightly wonky ever since), tools and other things as well (if i remember, it had a step ladder as well). my brother's room was no better - it had two huge bookshelves with books on thermodynamics, the classic epics and piles of videotapes with hindi movies from the 80's recorded over and over again - not exactly what you would expect to find in a 5-year-old's room.

even if i wanted to add in stuff, there were few places to look in for cool add-ons - things like garage sales were unknown of back then, so i couldnt even salvage any old speakers or other things to add some spice to my space. there was no ikea or any such store selling room stuff. and well, interior design mags were not popular back then, so there were very few resources to turn to for options. oh, and beg-borrow-steal wasn't an option. i did try to unleash my designer talents on the work desk (which was part of a book shelf-cum-study desk all mounted on a wall, and looking like it was suspended from mid-air) - i used all the markers i had to scribble my name over and over, in varied languages and forms, drew random figures and basically made it a graffitti art-piece. some years later, my aunt's family stayed in the house, and my hapless cousin (who got my room) taped a huge sheet of white paper over the desk - i guess he cudn't appreciate the nuances of my art. tut tut.

hmm...so what do i make of all this? nothing much, except that i could have expressed my design talents much earlier in life, and in other parts of my room. would i turn the clock back and redecorate the same room? nah, its just far too much trouble. but hey, knowing that i could have done an amazing job - had i had resources - is a good enough feeling for now. enough to make me stop writing rubbish and get to sleep.