Red would frown seeing Kundera being quasi-plaigiarised in this manner but I honestly couldn’t think of any other title for this blog post.

I sometimes get the sense of things being in a separate reality as it were. And while that may have shrinks reaching for a diagnosis of psychosis but there often doesn’t seem to be a bridge between what’s transpired and what currently *is*.

Take for example the new place we moved it. It’s only been 3 months since we moved here but I can’t seem to recall the time of my life when I lived in the old apartment. It’s almost like that’s ceased to be.

I had gone back to the old place today because a former colleague and fellow bookworm wanted to take some of my books that I’d left behind in the move. And while I can find myself heading back to that place on autopilot, it seemed surreal to be back in the actual apartment.

Our voices were echoing slightly in the empty livingroom but somehow I couldn’t envision myself and my family there although the better part of 7 years of married life had been spent there.

This is a form of moving on. It’s firmly categorized as a closed chapter. Something that’s been traded for a better object, situation and we’ve moved on. All of us. Red and MLM took about 2-3 days to get settled into the new place and get acclimatized heart and soul.

I kept thinking that I alone still had a hankering for the place but it’s no longer home.

It’s a curious phenomenon, moving on. People you couldn’t do without at one point of time, places you couldn’t think of not being in all get left behind and you march on. Not always to something and someone better but you always proceed further and further ahead. Often you progress as well.

Another day, another realization. Such is life.

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