This post is a prelude to the intended piece of today. Songs from the glorious past of Snow Patrol are blaring in my ears as I write this.
What makes memories fascinating is their multifaceted nature. I remember reading a trivia titbit that says something on the lines 'if you are thinking about an incident from the past, you are not revisiting the incident but you are actually reminiscing the last time you remembered the incident.' If that's true, that very aspect smears fascination onto memories. Two people could have a memory about incidents they partook in. It's not necessary the two people remember the incidents in a similar way. So that's technically two versions of remembering; both could vary - sometimes radically and other times slightly.
The next post that'll be up (the intended piece) is a nostalgic piece on our (myself and the brother's) childhoods in Karimnagar. I was talking to him about some events that I vividly remember from the times but all the response I got from the other side of the phone was silence. He remembers a few incidents but he cannot revisit them the way I can. How is that possible, was my impulsive question. Same partakers, same incidents. Both remember them in a radically different way.
If I want to talk about my memories with a person about the times we shared them, it's likely I'd only amuse the person with my version of memory. That leaves me disappointed. Like D F Wallace moaned during the last days of his life, 'It's tragic that there's all this inside me and it's so much but they are just words to another person.'
Tragic, yet fascinating - like a glorious mistake or a spectacular failure.
What makes memories fascinating is their multifaceted nature. I remember reading a trivia titbit that says something on the lines 'if you are thinking about an incident from the past, you are not revisiting the incident but you are actually reminiscing the last time you remembered the incident.' If that's true, that very aspect smears fascination onto memories. Two people could have a memory about incidents they partook in. It's not necessary the two people remember the incidents in a similar way. So that's technically two versions of remembering; both could vary - sometimes radically and other times slightly.
The next post that'll be up (the intended piece) is a nostalgic piece on our (myself and the brother's) childhoods in Karimnagar. I was talking to him about some events that I vividly remember from the times but all the response I got from the other side of the phone was silence. He remembers a few incidents but he cannot revisit them the way I can. How is that possible, was my impulsive question. Same partakers, same incidents. Both remember them in a radically different way.
If I want to talk about my memories with a person about the times we shared them, it's likely I'd only amuse the person with my version of memory. That leaves me disappointed. Like D F Wallace moaned during the last days of his life, 'It's tragic that there's all this inside me and it's so much but they are just words to another person.'
Tragic, yet fascinating - like a glorious mistake or a spectacular failure.
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ReplyDeleteThought provoking!!
DeleteMemories feel strikingly close to the heart yet remain nonchalantly on the other side of the river. Your portrayal of minute details in life feels the same except that they stay close to the heart.