 |
I smell the distinct awakened memories, echoes of the long-gone days, the pictures of which are worn out, faded and damp, or perhaps some even crumbled. I mistook them as just memories, but these are what made me, me.
They might not be the fantastic ones or the worst ones, etching their impermeable marks on me. My reminiscing of these gently scented memories are beyond just the stills captured by the celluloid, unless I visit them time to time, to see how we all lived in the earlier years of our life, where there was so much of liveliness, attention, and connection deeper than just the hugs, storytelling or frivolous fights. It was in quieter moments of joy in kinship, saw the underlying true nature of my parents. I saw a childlike spirit in my mother and assiduous nature in my father, evolving each time. I want these, rather I need these memories to stay with me, to soothe me when bad ones threaten to erase the traces of the good ones. They are evidence of lively souls that belong together even when they faltered. They are extraordinary people with kindness and the best intentions I have known in my life. And who am I to judge? Life puts each one of us through enough stress, to change the best of us, even me, and even you!
 |
| Photo by sarandy westfall on Unsplash |
©Shweta, 2020. All Rights Reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment