Down inside, THEY Live.

Memories, a thing of the past, the moments once spent that never return but remain as an integral part of someone who has been there. Through the entire span from cradle to pyre, every soul has tonnes of memories, that slowly tend to fade like an old movie yet the thing that helps these memories to be one with the carrier is nothing but the emotions involved. Like every other movie, there are some movies that are evergreen and then there are some which are very forgettable. There are some which brought out the best in us ans there are some that sought out the Satan. Good or bad, light or dark, even or odd; the mind never seem to break away from the crystal chains of memories. There are moments in everyday life when the memories seem to hit back causing momentary concussion that eventually leads to distortion in the on going activity. Few are able to cope up instantly while a lot more than few transit into temporary monk-like stature trying to live out or black out from those recollections of the past. Some try to keep a straight face during the shake but tend to break down, once in company with solitude. And there are a few, like me, who prefer to pen down a memoir of those memories and try to recollect the memories out of their minds, never realising that a part of life can't just be broken away without ache.

Even though the sweet memories bring out large smiles to the face; yet they come at a cost. The smile fades away on realising their past-state, that they can never return. Every sweet memory is clamped heavily with more than one bitter memory. For e.g. If we see a sweet shop selling our favorite sweet; we often remember the first time we had it, its taste, the sweet shock of a new discovery; then we remember the moment when we longed for that sweet while having a sour or bitter pill/dish. These memories, indeed, have strength. Without any physical existence they can either break even the strongest person, or may motivate a lamenting one to try and get those moments back. Even though re-living those moments seem a little absurd, without any existence of a time-travelling pendant/time machine; yet that motivated person can get moments that arr far better than the past.
Science tries to combine the third dimension with the forth and make time turn back at will. The irony is that every living soul, with a conciousness of its own, has the capability to time travel by its own means. Probably a person in coma dreams about his life spent and when he thinks that he has yet to live on, the person wakes up to conscious state. Or the person may never rise; that's what memories/dreams of the past did to him. A goldfish has a memory of 3 seconds, means it has a capability to travel time for 3 seconds back in the past. While we, the supreme self centred species, have the capability to go back to the cradle even though physically crippled on death-bed. Often these memories come out as tales. People with family members from the time of war would be much acquainted and knowinh about the emotional aspect of those cloudy days, the one part the history books don't teach. Starting from those survivors, the third generation and on-wards take up those memories as tales conjured up for bed time appetite, never realising they are getting to time travel to a part of past when even their parents weren't born. The epic mythologies of Ramayan & Mahabharata were told and re-told by generation after generation until they were penned down much much later in the history. Who knows, there have been parts of the tales we've missed or we have been misled; the memories that we can never know.

Lost in time-fading by the clock, yet fresh as memories tales of the past have always been an integral part of the human soul, that return at the hour of melting heart. It's upto the keeper to do the necessary. Good or bad, both can be preserved in a vault unseen. The good can be sealed as as part that have a smile. Bad is nothing but the absence of Good, they should be at heart as a remembrance of the repetitive nature of Good. These re-collections keep a man at one with ground, the lonely company, the beggar rich (well! almost), the hungry fed and helps create a new write-up, of course. !!!!!!!!!