There is an abiding air of Nostalgia that seeps through the thick edges of my dusty curtains, with each passing dawn.
I wake up this chill morning, after a long, restful, sleep, to the sounds of chirpings birds.
My bed - creaking from overuse.
The subtle noise of this anonymous music box, saturates the room from above.
I think my neighbour owns that box.
And now, somehow, the sound from that music box therapizes itself into the soul of my day to day living.
So now, I sit, before I say my morning prayers, and I listen to this sound from above my room.
I take it all in. Every single note.
This sound, for which I lack total control of.
And I am lost in my mind.
Somewhere deep, a visceral escape into the best spaces imaginable.
As I write, this sound billows.
But, I hear the classic sounds of Jazz music.
The legendary flutes and soothing saxophone of the controversial Anikulapo kuti Fela.
Gently, I take a step away from my bed, towards my window.
Carefully toggling the rusty handles of my double-hung window, to get a clearer view of the sky. It's misty and chill, this morning.
There is a loud silence that accompanies my thoughts.
Then, I say to myself :
''I graduate in a few weeks. I'd miss this place. Look how I have come to love this place and the people in it."
Recalling all the names of the beautiful people with which I share this sacrosanct gift of time with.
This Gift of acquiring knowledge and skill. Knowledge and skill, that must be fine tuned.
I reckon that I've found a love interest.
I will not bother you with her name.
I tell her in many words and ways, that we can blossom together.
Such a sweet, affable, soul.
The Nostalgia grows even bigger now. Progressively - deepening.
So much so.
So, here I am, listening to the pitter-patter sounds of rain drops.
Overwhelmed by the moist air of a Nostalgic ending.
© UFOT ID.
