Dear Memories
A rambling of chaos
This rambling is going to be tricky and weirdly chaotic. That’s because it’s you. How can anything be straight and simple if you’re involved? For starters, look at how you confuse us through the thick and thinness of our lives. Through potholes and smooth roads of our lives.
Sometimes, you emerge from the deepest pits and enrage and embarrass us because of a random event that happened ages ago. You make us cringe over our actions, the actions that may have made sense at the time they occurred. But now, they’re ridiculous sources of motivation to dig a hole and reside there or question our abilities as a human.
While other times, you make us stop in our tracks while we’re rummaging through our mental space to remember a name or a location. In case you haven’t noticed, this unexpected forgetfulness can easily shove us down the path of embarrassment. Then, there are times when you pop up randomly and fill us with warmth. You remind us of the people in our lives who have had our backs and made our lives sparkling with lights of happiness.
You also make our hearts ache because of those sparkling moments and nostalgic realisations that they will never happen again. You make us forget and smile but also fill our hearts with unbridled emotions and eyes with tears.
And how can we forget your diagonally opposite characteristics of hiding and reminding? You fold our traumatic past in small compartments and keep hiding it in secretive locations of our brain unless another event busts the location and releases fumes of damage. Although appreciable, maybe you don’t do an excellent job of eliminating the traumatic incidences. Perhaps you need time, patience, and much support to get rid of those.
But maybe it is nice that you never really get rid of them. Perhaps you try to protect us both ways by reminding us of what ensued after a hurtful event. Maybe you want us to remember so that we don’t hurt ourselves again or don’t hand over the chance to other humans. Maybe.
Although, humans, as complex as they are, tend to change, and maybe holding on to their distressing side might not help with moving forward. It prohibits us from handing out second chances. But, you also sometimes obliterate the pleasant incidences and confuse humans as to whether they should hand out second chances: so many maybes and ifs and buts.
Amid all the remembered and the forgotten incidences, we sometimes end up randomly giving second chances to the ones who don’t deserve them and no opportunities to the ones who might have deserved them. But we like to believe that happens rarely. We also illude ourselves by perceiving different notions of our lives and those of others. And we also like to believe that our perceptions are rarely amiss.
Do you see? Given your chaotic nature, who can say if we are being fair to other humans or even to ourselves? You bring a sense of mystery and arbitrariness — a sense of unfairness. But also loads of senses of protectiveness, warmth, and amusement entangled in an unsolvable puzzle. Then, how can we be sure about our distributed second chances and perceived notions?
Dear memories, maybe this rambling is a request or just a rambling to map the chaos of life. So, we would request you to consider being a little less disorderly and maybe try to help us out in trudging through life as it is. Not sprinkled with your eccentric remembrances and forgetfulness. Not with your sudden embarrassments and pleasantness. Not with your challenges but with your support.
