Memoirs

Memories are like the writing on sand. You remember a feeling, an aftertaste but they may or may not have happened the way you imagined! 

I have read some memoirs, some of personalities and some of just know people. Infact I have loved the latter more. There is something about simplicity and the complexity. They led simple lives which were complex enough to be termed a story. 

I wonder if my story is also complex like that. Sometimes you feel too ordinary to have an interesting story. But everyday can be made interesting with the right kind  of thoughts and actions. You can be a legend in your own way. 

I read Gandhi which put me to sleep. I will be honest he led a very boring life. Climbing the mango trees was an artwork of a happy childhood. It was like a colorful painting which took you to your own childhood and it’s wonderful memories. Or the one that I am reading now. As the name suggests it’s deeply personal and courageous to write a memoir - ‘Things that I’ve been silent about’ by Azar Nafisi my favorite author. 

This silence, shame or hesitation is specific to our culture and mostly women. We don’t show our life as an open book, there are things to hide, forget and never to be spoken for. Can anyone really say there life is an open book! If it is, is it worth reading! 

Sometimes the nostalgia blinds us to the hard truths of the world we lived in. I grew up in 80s and I am sure things were not all hunky dory, with climbing of trees and summer holidays. There are many summers to count of. The summer I got my period, the summer I did a summer internship, the summer we went to Vaishnodevi, the fun trip to Kathmandu. Summers are wonderful and sepia memories of those  times only leave a good taste. 

And then there are the world events which influence your memories. The time when we had to leave Moga for Chandigarh due to terrorism. The year when I left home and moved to Delhi for my bachelors, and Pune for masters and Mumbai for job. There are moments of truth, of new friendships and old, of monsoons and winters. Of the 9/11 and the July monsoon deluge. The 26/11 and the World Cup victory. The first kiss, the first date, the silly crushes and teenage hormones. 

Memories are pearls of candy which let you experience those moments again. As you unwrap and put the candy in your mouth. The burst of taste hits your head and the beautiful scene appears making you feel what you felt that day. Those are the kind of memoirs are the best ones. These happen when you live a life which is memorable. Some thing you will be overjoyed to think about in your 70s when you wouldn’t be able to move much. Memories, ironically I look forward to them. I am going to make some for a wonderful memoir.