Week 3: 8/2/16
Memory and Object
As a person who has an affinity towards nature, living in Mumbai wasn’t one of the best parts of my life. And I would always long to travel to exotic destinations like the seaside, or the hill or somewhere with just snow all around. But both my parents work full time and hence we never really have a chance to travel as frequently as one should. So as a small kid up till now, I have cherished the time I was out travelling knowing that unlike others I am not that fortunate to visit new places that often.
The object that keeps me optimistic is something I carry around in myself. It is not just one object but a combination of two. One of them is a small dried twig of a pine tree and other is a shell I collected from one of the beaches. The twig reminds not only me of all the wonderful moments I spent in Kashmir last year, but also of the time when I first saw snow when I was in 6th grade. It takes me back to the time when I sat alone in the balcony, on a cold night in Pahalgam trying to put together my messed up life or to the time when I first touched snow in Dalhousie on a huge stone on a corner of a ghat, still not acquainted with long stretches of snow fields I would find in Manali.
So now when I look at the small twig, now resting between the pages of my planner I visualize the tree I plucked it from, the beautiful platform of fresh snow it stood on and of course a younger version of myself, covered from head to toe with heavy woollens, plucking it and contemplating about someday like this when I would fondly recollect my memories.
The shell holds a special place in my heart. But this time it reminds me of how I took a quick getaway during my 12th grade. I always associate and try to feel what I felt back then on my two-day trip to Ganapatipule. But somehow, what I felt back then I am yet unable to feel. I felt free, I was under tremendous pressure to do well in my examinations, that somehow I had started feeling suffocated. But those two days changed it all. I still try to decipher that moment when I grinned widely as I saw the beach, I ran towards the water, my feet trying to sink in the sand with every step. For a moment, nothing mattered, just me and the beach.
Since these trips and journeys are something that I cherish the most, even the objects that minutely remind me of them are something that are precious to me. Therefore I love this process of being taken to a completely different world of my memories when I see the old twig along with my reminders or the shell with rivets or train tickets in my wallet.