Memory is a strange thing if you ask me. How many times I’ve entered a room and found myself staring at the wall, not knowing what I came there for.
They say that warning sirens ring just moment before we drown. But you see I’m like Titanic that took 180 minutes to drown. And I’ve been drowning for the past numerous days. Ask a lover and you’ll know that memory is a strange thing. And whenever I’ve tried to let you in it you’ve always clawed your way out and resisted to get back in.
It’s been days since I felt any kind of moisture in my eyes. They say when the heart becomes heavey our eyes let the pain out. But maybe that’s the problem I don’t wanna let it out, none of it. Maybe the pain is a part of loving you. And maybe that’s why no matter how far I go, I’ll always return to this feeling of your presence. Somewhere, deep in me where I’ll sit and let all the memories dissolve into me.
We lose things just like it happens in a game. We find things, just like we get fame at a game. But sometimes we lose things and we do not find it. It is a norm usually followed that what is gone returns. But often it does not. Often what we lose cannot be found again. Or, even if you get it, it is found in a state that it has been lost, which is far beyond recovery. Like maybe some memory.
At times, we lose memory, and we recover it. But sometimes it also happens that we never find the memory which we lose again. And many a times it happens that we want to lose that memory because it is not something which we want to keep. We do not wish to have it back. What do you do with the memory of the dead? Would you lose it or would you want to find it? What is lost but not found may not be forever lost.
But who knows what happens? In this dilemma between being and not being, between being what requires no finding and being lost, they were to be found. Between take off and landing there exists no mystery. Everything that flies eventually comes to land. Generally it happens that when the lost thing comes to be found it is simply a debris of lost things. Lost. Found. But eventually lost.
The day I learned not to bother about whatever was happening with you was the day I realized, that my heart is brave to strike off that one thing which I had kept on the highest pedestal since so long. That day I accepted that what’s not meant to happen, no matter how hard I try, no matter how far I run, will not happen. And practically speaking, there is no loss in losing what was never yours, there is no defeat in stepping outside, empty-handed, there is no guilt in giving up on something which never held on to you.
That day I understood that my heart isn’t a graveyard of your memories, where I had buried each one of them chronologically. My heart is certainly not a garden of remembrance where you visit once in a blue moon to offer your condolences to my fallen hopes.
The day your words managed to pierce through the walls of my delicate heart, which were once filled with love, only for you; that day itself you managed to earn my ignorance. From that day itself, your existence never really mattered to me, anymore. So, congrats you have permanently destroyed a perpetual source of love. You have been successful in pushing away a pair of palms that, whenever folded, prayed for you. You successfully lost each and every wish that was meant only for you.
But, forget not that everything, good or bad, eventually comes to an end. So will this, one day. For now, I am letting it burn, our unfinished book, I don’t remember what page number were we at, I don’t remember what chapter had I started before you tore it apart. Neither do I want to remember. I just hope you have a happy and a successful life.
A lot many times it happens that you simply want to forget someone. But that doesn’t happen. You might have moved on, it is an entirely different concept, but it doesn’t mean you have forgotten the person. You do not forget them. They stay in the back of your head all the time. The memories may blur with time but you can not forget them who taught you how to love.
Such people live with you forever. They are a part of your existence, a part of you. With time the wounds may heal, you may not see tears in your eyes when you see their pictures or hear their name. But in the back of your mind, you know they still exist and will do forever. You gradually accept the fact that you cannot forget them and you won’t and you begin living with it. That is a name which has been printed on your soul, stitched in your veins and is running in your blood.