Trips to Decathlon
a core memory - Lucky Ali, Appa, and sandwiches
It’s funny how some of the most non-monumental, seemingly mundane happenings end up becoming core memories of your life. No kidding, I’m positive there’s a golden ball inside my brain that’s devoted to this one memory alone, and as I’m typing this down, Joy is projecting the memory onto the screen projector-part of my brain.
I’m going to try to be as vivid as my limited vocabulary lets me, hop on along!!
It was a Sunday, sometime between 2012-2017. Sundays were the best-suited days for Decathlon runs. Appa would come over in our car to pick us up (my brother and I) after our Sunday Catechism class. As I walked to the car immediately after class was dismissed, I would fling my net-veil onto the car-seat to relieve my overly stimulated self. My dress stuck to my body because of the sweat but there wasn’t much I could do about that one.
Getting into the car, and feeling the AC on my face, felt like heaven to (probably) 12 year old Ankita. The sitting through church for 4 hours was gratified in this very moment. My brother, probably feeling the same feelings as I was at the time, was nothing short of joyous that noon. We relished the special sandwiches Appa packed for us, covered in tissue paper to ensure it’s contents wouldn’t fall out. As expected, I would accidentally eat some tissue paper along with the bread in my rush.
Appa warned us about spilling food on the car seats before he started driving. Back then, we inserted CDs in the car dashboard. Today it’s a USB and a touch screen. We lost the Lucky Ali CD, so I try to relive it all via my Spotify account. Does the trick. (right?)
All 5 senses in play, we looked out of the car windows at the familiar sights, which felt a little more magical that day as we held the sandwiches in our hand, carefully enjoying them, taking in the aroma of the ingredients, as we listened to Lucky Ali sing.
Decathlon was a much loved spot for us. My brother and I, we milked our father’s love for fitness-y outdoors-y stuff, for the occasional trips to the store. The best part about it all??
THEY LET YOU PLAY.
Not exactly. But sort of like a trial run. You could pick any sport, and have fun with it for a few minutes before the people who run the store pick up on your intentions. Absolutely lovely, so we milked it. Shamelessly.
We took a million rounds around the store riding the bicycles we chose. I was always a little conscious of my time with the trial as I did not want to get caught. But my brother couldn’t care less. Looking back, I wish I were a little more like him. We were just kids after all, what’s going to come out of one more trial round around the Decathlon store?
After we got bored of the bicycles, we would switch to the next sport that piqued our interest. 20 minutes spent playing table tennis, I’d probably try on some skates. The options seemed infinite. All the time we spent playing felt like an eternity because of that weird “time slows down as a kid” thing. All until, it was time to leave.
Oddly, I cannot recollect any of the departures I had from the trips. All I seem to remember, is the way to and the time at the store. Then I just magically spawned onto bed. It’s a funny thing, your memory. It chooses to recollect, as it pleases, leaving out a gazillion details.
I’m okay with it I think.
The memories that I still get to reminisce about make up for it.
Good ol' times
This is so wholesome