Oscar Wilde in “The importance of being earnest” wrote – Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us. How true. December 30th, around eleven o clock in the night while I was returning to my room, the moderately cool breeze teleported me to the same time three years back. The year was 2008 and I was in Bangalore.A newly joined job in a remote corner of the city and the end of the year was a perfect recipe to find an escapade. And I did find an escapade in the then recently released movie – Ghajini. The much awaited Aamir Khan starrer was a must watch and a plan was hatched with Pravat, his young uncle and his friend. We met at Rex theatre. It was cold December evening and the crowd was thin. We had dinner at the moderately priced place of Brigade road, American Corner (if my memory srves me right with the name). Well if you are expecting any special thing to happen, I am sorry to disappoint you.
We enjoyed the movie. It was close to 1 a.m when we retuned back to Pravat’s place, almost 18 kilometers away. The empty road, the speeding old bike and the cold breeze. Teeth clattering and humming ‘behka, main behka...’ we came back.
Today three years later, I messaged Pravat if he remembered the incident. He had forgotten. Then he called and then him being the meticulous person that he is, recalled about the bike, the ‘Big Bazaar’ which we crossed while we were discussing how cold it was and so on and so forth.
But we both agreed on one issue. The issue of time flying past at a rapid speed. It doesn’t feel if it were three years back. Those were tough days in more than one way. The memories formed in those days have found a deep seat in the brain. Time flying quickly is again an issue of perception. For some its longer to bear and for some it is like a few months.
The mere date, the cool breeze was enough to take me back to three precise years. The memories that are written in pages of a thick invisible book in the brain are brought to the fore when the conducive environment arrives. Very less of the text gets deleted. It is all stacked up there. Both good and bad.It is amazing how the memory works. Like the Scottish novelist James Matthew Barrie wrote “ God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December”.