“A man is made of memories. It is all we are. Captured moments, the smell of a place, scenes played out time and again on a small stage. We are memories, strung on story lines–the tales we tell ourselves about ourselves, falling through our lives into tomorrow.”
I have a serious problem with letting things go. Things which are not about good or bad experiences even though I hold on to good things very strongly. Things , here for example , are materialistic ones – old clothes , old sunglasses , old stopped watches, old photographs, old magazine in which only one story was good , old newspaper page where a small article inspired me , old text messages.
Once, I cried after deleting a small text message that my brother sent after seeing me off at an airport .I saved that for three years , until by mistake I clicked on delete button.
Once , someone asked me to sell some of my books to make space in my small rented apartment .I was ready to let her go but not my books.
I think , every small thing around me is constantly helping me to march ahead . That’s why, I get upset whenever I have to let things go from life.
But, then I read somewhere , old things go just to welcome the new ones. That’s the mantra of a good life . I follow that and forget completely , many times!
My weekend was pretty busy. Actually weekends are busier than weekdays , sometimes. Still, I start counting days to welcome Friday on every Sunday evening.
This Friday, I went to purchase a few home decoration things ; I was bored of same crockery, dinnerware, bed-spreads , lamps , etc [and I was not ready to let the old ones go too !]. While checking out , the cashier asked me ” So, are you guys newly married? ” . I was so surprised by that question that I took 1 long minute to think before answering anything. ” No. Not new anymore. ” , I said, with a smile. She was not convinced and repeated , ” You purchased these things. I thought, you guys are making a new home, together. Great choice, by the way. ”
I grinned , looking at those house-hold articles , while pondering on if the word “choice” was about the things I purchased and not about the man who was busy signing on the payment receipt. ” This is the 5th year of our marriage” , I ended our little conversation and thanked her .
While returning home , I was back to nostalgia – to the year after our marriage. I took 1 long year to accept that word “husband” . Even after an eventful, colorful, extravagant Indian marriage , for a year, I used to mention about him : “ Meet S, my best friend .” to the strangers ; and they used to correct me ” He’s your husband , not best friend anymore.”
The memory of our best friendship is something that will always stay with us. It made us who we are today! No matter what society calls us or dedicates certain words like “couple” , ” husband/wife ” , “life partners” ; we always keep the word “best friends” alive in the house!
It does not matter what change life brings, somewhere , past always stays in us , sometimes hidden , sometimes exposed!
We are made of memories . We all are.