Start of a new year like any
other date based milestone that we celebrate is a curiously eccentric human
thing. On closer, sober scrutiny they tend to seem like artificial constructs
without any real significance on the journey but they give us occasions to be
happy, wish people and reflect, which are all extremely legitimate &
critical reasons to perpetuate the
practice.
The only dampener on that
logic is that, ideally, if being happy and connecting with friends & people
and reflecting on our lives are so very important, we should be doing these all
day, every day.
But hey, we are busy.
So take advantage of these
artificial constructs, we shall.
I think doing so also lends
itself well for that reflecting piece. A new year seems like a good time to
take stock - emotionally & psychologically.
Memories have a way of coming
up as these random discrete images. It's as if, subconsciously, our brains have
decided to precipitate an experience, a continuous linked set of events or an
emotional feeling that has grown over time into one or few vivid images; Pinnacles
that soar above the cloud of our consciousness to stand out from all the earthy
rocky moments of our existence; Snapshots of life that we have subconsciously hash-tagged
as worthy of remembrance.
As its wont, memories catch
us unawares. When we are about to drift off lying in bed. When we are standing
in a crowded metro. When we are walking alone on a chilly evening. When we are
dreaming.
If we let that moment
sustain, it sometimes feels surreal. It's like how the images fuzz out when we squint
our eyes and let the borders dissolve. A kaleidoscope of memories.
2015 has given me a fair
share. So a new year seems as good a
moment as any to build the collage of our being as a measure of what the
last time period has been. A palette of memories - Joyous, melodious,
sorrowful, angry, peaceful, exhilarating, humbling, shameful, prideful
memories. Images that are colorful and bright. And images that are grey and dull.
And when this happened to me
today morning, I realized I had mostly heartwarming images swirling in my head.
Yes, there were sad ones. But such is a human life. And besides, when we really
go meta on it, the black & grey pixels are essential for a painting that is
meant to be rich and colorful and vibrant to actually be rich and colorful and
vibrant.
And while there are many
counter views, I believe memories are our only anchor. Memories are what made and
is making us, us. Memories are our identity. And when all is said and done,
when all superficial trappings of our life have been lost or rendered meaningless,
memories are our only possession.
So I wish you and myself, as
the new year begins, that we make good memories in the coming year.
To let the images collect in
our lives' albums, knowing that some are bound to be black and hoping to have
the wisdom to acknowledge that they are enriching the collage.
Here's to a colorful new
year.
1 comment:
Super, man
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