>The Memory lost forever

>Remember my older posts when whatever I wrote seemed to be speculative? Oh well, speculation happens when I’m moved by something. And since I’ve generally been busy living the life dictated by the odd turn of turns which saw me become a doctor (Sometimes I really wonder when I really decided I wanted to be one), I have had only few such events which have made me record such events for posterity. No, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had detailed diary entries for each year since my second standard, when my Father bought me my first diary. Ah I remember it so well. At those times, money had so much value. The diary itself cost Rs 25 (a huge amount in my memory, my father having taught me the value of money from my early childhood days itself) and was printed by Malayala Manorama. The early entries of course went like, “Today I woke up at 5 a.m. Amma made me coffee..”.. lol..
But as years passed, I began to spend time pouring my mind and soul into it. Diaries are excellent for introspection. And whatever you think, blogs don’t even come close. You don’t share secrets through blogs. Whatever you may feel while reading them, blogs are exactly what the author wants you to read. Just like novels. So, of course blogs are fake, and feigned. Anyway, my diaries have dealt with everything from Birthday presents, imagined breakups, death of pets to favorite books, school assembly speeches to farewell parties, entrance exams and failures.
Sometimes one must re-read diaries. There may be people who do that often. I don’t. I don’t know why, but once I archive a diary, the next time I see it is in years! But re-reading diaries broadens ones perspective. It is interesting how over the years ones likes and cravings change. The one thing you wished for years ago seems so small now. And the colors and sounds which you seemed to wallow in seems lost to you now. People speak of a child’s innocence. What’s it? A lack of knowledge about the world? Nope. It’s ones imagination. Remember the time when the world was huge. When from the time one walked to the school bus stop, got onto it, chatted with friends, fought with each other, played on the ground or park (the park itself seemed so huge). I remember each tree in my school, and the hollows in some filled with mud. I remember playing with tents made with friends. I remember…
This is my turn at nostalgia. I don’t feel nostalgia for my school. Not the school per se. I’m nostalgic about those memories, melancholic about not being able to see those friends as much as I want. Indeed I’m nostalgic of my childhood! Ever wonder how much imagination one had then? Ever remember how one would believe anything? How ghosts and demons were real? And how worldly cravings seemed so huge then but seems so limited now?
I remember living through Enid Blyton and Fairy Tales. I remember all those wonderful creatures that existed ‘then’. I remember of learning of chivalry and honor through those childhood authors.
Life goes on. One day those people who seemed to be constantly around you, being the source of inspiration, and who you took so much for granted, will be no more. You will grieve, yet the moment will pass. Memories which seemed etched on diamond will fade. And yet, there will come a day when you are alone, when you lie in bed alone and your mind flutters to those distant memories. Then, right then, you will wonder how you ever you took those people for granted, how you failed to appreciate them, and failed to make them happy. Of course that day will come, and you can do nothing more then, at least no more than you can now.
For me, introspection comes uninvited. During those brief flashes of clear consciousness, you will resolve to make those people around you happy. But life is tough. And whatever you decide, until the moment of grieving, until that forlorn moment of separation, until that moment when you realize that whatever that has happened is irreversible, that the person you grieve is not going to come back, you wouldn’t have done anything for them. At least not something really worthwhile. You are so twisted into your role of living life, of building a future for yourself that you fail to see those people who mattered and still do.
But probably for some of you who are reading this, that moment probably has not yet come. There still are people who long for your care and love. They may be friends, family, partner, teacher or other acquaintances. Have you really given them what they really deserve? I’m not talking about charity.. I’m asking you if you’ve really cared..and even if you have in your heart, have you shown them that you care? While they are still around to be made happy?


You are reading this post on The Eyrie, Joel G Mathew’s Blog.
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