Moving On...

It is hard to move on and hold upon the memories when the life is all about detachment and impermanence.

Only if I had a genie, I would have wished to pause the time and let myself stay in those moments, forever, without recalling them.

Lately, I have been experiencing life more, than capturing every moment in the camera (phone). But after sometime it does feel what if I would have clicked a picture, like others- of the food, street, person, concert? But I know, if many people were there, I would get the best of the clicks once they Airdrop, oops! Bluetooth or WhatsApp me (I am an Android).

But, but I still miss it, I reminisce those moments- laughter, sadness, tears, joy, love, smile- everything. All I associated “moving on” was with romantic relationships, until recently. Once romantic relationships are broken, either on sad or happy note (though it is mostly sad), it is difficult to erase all the moments, memories, places, songs, things, everything- within a nick of time and carry on, as if puzzle pieces were always intact. Nobody told me that I have to also move on from my first rented flat during my college days, from the balcony where we had Maggi, drinks and deep talks, from the road which was taken daily, from the birthdays and anniversaries which were little more special that year, the first car etc. Nobody told me that and it would be painful for me to move on while I call them to mind.

I store memories- not in captured way but associate them with things and places such as-

1. I still have the draft love letter I wrote to my crush in School,

2. T-shirts I purchased in 2011 during my trip to Leh-Ladakh. My mom had opportunities to turn them into dusting cloth, but, sorry not them even if they have holes.

3. Sweatshirt of the boy I was going out in College,

4. Pillow with Panda on it given by my friends on my Birthday (yes, I didn’t destroy it, as I mentioned in my previous post, because it had essence of them),

5. Flowers given to me,

6. Notes and chats with friends at back of my college registers, starred WhatsApp messages,

7. Wrist bands alongwith envelopes from the concerts/events I have been to,

8. My grandfather’s sweater, which he wore in his last days,

9. My great grandmother’s sandalwood vanity box and it smells brilliant after 100yrs,

10. Prize money in cash (even after demonetization, which has no value now),

11. Chocolate wrappers,

12. Corals I collected in 2006 during my trip to Andaman and Nicobar Islands because I still hear waves in them,

13. Old and redundant train and fair tickets, boarding passes,

14. Cigarette buds, rum bottles- when I first tried them etc.

Well, the list is endless.

Life gurus say we should detach ourselves from all the things and people. But if we detach ourselves, then there won’t be any attachment and then if there is no attachment then how would we make memories? Or should we stop making memories? It is all confusing. Somebody help me, please.

Recently, I visited my best-friend [Let’s us call them Anmol (because they are)]. Anmol and I have known each other for over a decade. We don’t remember each other’s first impressions, but we are very much aware of last impressions of every moment, conversation we had. Last year, they were going through a hard time in life, so were I. But we couldn’t meet because of our own messed up life. Hence, I travelled this time to make up for the lost shoulder, which I couldn’t be when they needed me the most. The day of arrival felt like we had enough time until I depart. But sooner the day of my departure came, I don’t know about them, but my eyes were teary, though I was sobbing inside. They did sense, but I dodged and probably thought they must have bought it. During those few days of stay, we roamed around the city, ate at the prominent places, strolled around the beautiful spots and simultaneously worked as well. It felt as if the day had slowed down and peaceful. We laughed, cried, danced, celebrated wins, alot. It was calm in chaos for me.

One fine evening, we both were standing in the balcony, gazing the starry sky, feeling the chilling breeze while watching thicket of bamboo trees in front of us. It was quiet, with a beer in one hand and cigarette in the other. And there comes gust of emotions, opening about the last year’s happenings, failed moments, unworthy feelings. I tried hard not to open much before them, because what if I couldn’t stop myself from crying. We sat, we talked, we pepped talked each other, held each other, hugged and made countless promises. And then, very moment, it struck me, I reminisced a peculiar memory from my Memory Bank, which has been stuck there since last 7 years. The set-up was same, the only thing differed was the city. Back then we cried, we laughed, we made promises in a similar way, because we all were graduating and didn’t know what was coming for us or whether we will be in contact with each other. But here we were after countless promises still standing next to each other, supporting.

I was still struggling to get over the moment we had 7 years ago and now, a similar memory was again created. How am I supposed to undo, unsave, erase and move on, so that these memories don’t come up and make my eyes swell of crying. It has been weeks since I have returned, but I haven’t been able to move on from those few days spent with them. I can still smell their scent in my T-shirt. I can feel us hugging and drunk dancing on Chammak Challo. I can feel the taste of the food, and the nightlights of the city. 7 years ago it also had similar essence, but that time it was a rented scooty and this time it was self purchased car. That time we were students (unemployed), this time we were self-employed (not much unemployed). That time we were silly and only thing mattered were exams’ datesheet, assignments’ deadlines, timetables etc. Now only thing matters is the phrase "by EOD”.

And as the days are passing by, it is hard for me to move on from this short trip, so much so that we watched a beautiful Tamil movie- Meiyazhagan. The movie was about a man who returned to the city after 22 years, and through the memory lanes, he meets this another person, who was his childhood friend, but he couldn’t recall his name. Damn! again a movie on memories making us create more memories and marking this movie in my Memory Bank as a memory with them. Help me! Goddd! Arghh!

There is something unsettling within me. I am happy, I was happy meeting them, all cheerful kid was out again with laugh of horses. During the departure as well, it was happy moment, content. But as the train left the platform, all I said to them on the phone- “I miss you already.” It felt like a heartbreak, my heart sank. We don’t know the uncertainty of the future, whether it will again take us 7 years to recreate a similar memory. I don’t want to wait that long, but neither do I want these memories flashing me back, telling me how much I love them and miss their presence, knowing they are a phone call away, yet going through my gallery at the same time over and over again, only to find that pictures are yet to be Airdropped to me.

This moving on from the memories and moments created with loved ones is hard for me. I can’t. I give up and I am not sorry for that. Because I can’t detach myself from something I love, cherish and value. I know “Men may come, men may go but life goes on forever” quote. But friends/people like Anmol never come and go, they are life and they go on forever with us.

And that is why they are Anmol- precious. 🌻

To my Yellow Friend.