Memory is one of those human traits that both connects us to and alienates us from the past. In memory, we are most aware of how much the past remains just that -- in the past. In comparison to the here and now, we are also most aware of how much has been lost to the past when we recall the things we had and the things that are no longer there. Those really early memories about London, my home, come back to me in almost every detail, even while I tend to have trouble remembering what I did and where I went yesterday or the day before. These memories, or maybe a kind of urban nostalgia, bring to my mind many traditional places in the city that are close and dear to my heart. Indeed, I feel privileged to have known these places and lived through the time of their existence.
For this reason, my early years living in this city bring back the fondest memories of London. This is my version of the "real" London. Life seemed simple and my hometown seemed tiny. I felt truly content...
It was one of my favorite things to experience the aromas and noises when we entered. I always looked forward to our Sunday visits and felt a little pang of regret upon leaving. There was a park right by the cemetery where I used to play. The mists of time now lend to it a misty and almost fairy-tale type of atmosphere. I remember enjoying my happiest and most carefree hours there. A completely different kind of happiness came from the sweetshop on the corner of the high street. Here, my parents would spoil me for behaving well. The anticipation was in the approach. The closer we came to the shop, the wider my smile became, and the happier my heart.
Even shopping was easy. There were only three shops we chose from if there was anything we needed. Between them, these shops catered for our every desire and need. Those were the days -- my…
