When we moved to Riyadh 23 years ago, we stayed in a small cozy compound in one of the quieter spots in the city. It was a small one, with six villas, a little pool, and a very spacious garden that took up most of the compound’s area. It may have looked similar to hundreds of other compounds scattered around Riyadh, but to me it was unique. It still is, because that is the place that contains seven years worth of the happiest memories of my life.

When we moved out of the compound, I didn’t give it much thought. In life, you go through different phases. You don’t realize that you have left one phase and entered another until enough time has passed. That is when you look back and realize how much things have changed.

And enough time did pass, eventually. I graduated from school, left for my University degree, completed that, and came back to Riyadh. Childhood years were so behind me now it was like they belonged to another, very distant life. Or even something that only existed in my imagination, difficult to believe as real.

When I returned to Riyadh, my younger sister was going through that same childhood phase that I had a longing for. One day, she asked me to drive her to one of her friends’ house. After asking about the directions to that house, I realized that my sister’s friend lived in the same house that I am writing about here. My sister and her friend were both 12 years old at the time. Around the same age I was when we moved out. We had moved out, because my sister was born, and we needed a bigger residence.

You may call this luck, destiny, fate, or chance. Regardless of the explanation you decide to give such events in life, they do exist. And to me, such synchronicities happen more than enough times to convince me that they are not mere coincidences. I don’t know what they are, how or why they happen. But I am glad that they do. Maybe it’s because I like the dreamlike effect they add to life.

As I dropped my sister at the gate, I was hesitant to get in the car and drive back. So I waited til the gate opened. I wanted to take a sneak peak inside. The parents opened the door and I introduced myself as the older brother. After the initial greetings, I asked them if it was ok for me to take a walk inside the compound. I didn’t want them to freak out,so I explained to them that I had once lived where they now lived, and was curious about how it looked like after all these years. They said I was more than welcome.

I really did not imagine that the effect would be that overwhelming. It’s not that I never missed my early childhood years. Before that day,I actually did pull out the old photo albums every now and then, and exchanged laughs with my brother for a few minutes. It felt good. But nowhere near how actually being there affected me.

The place was exactly the same as I had left it. A couple of trees had grown, a few walls had been repainted, but all in all, it was the same. As I wandered around from the garden, to the swimming pool, to the narrow alleyways between the villas, it was amazing how every corner I set my eyes on brought back hundreds of pictures, sounds, and feelings. In my mind, I was suddenly reliving a flood of memories all over again. I saw the faces of the tens of kids that I had befriended there. I heard the laughs that had once filled the air during the many barbeques we used to throw. I felt the joy of the few birthday parties I had there. Those days, I would just invite every single kid in my class. All 25 of them. Well maybe except for one kid whom no one liked. I guess that was acceptable back then.

Yes, that happens to be me up there.

I also relived the playful fights we used to have. The innocent preteen crushes. And the old neighbors angrily yelling at me when I woke them up from their afternoon nap (I always forgot that I wasn’t supposed to play basketball before 5:00 pm).

I didn’t stay for long that day. Maybe cause I knew that I would return there to pick up my sister. And even drive her there again on another day.  It turned out that I would. I still drive her there all the time. I volunteer to do so. And every time I do, I can’t help but take another peak inside. Will I ever get a chance to live there again?  Probably not. And that might be for the best. I guess it’s better to keep a good memory intact.

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