Memoirs—1

I got an sms just yesterday – "memories play a strange role…it makes you laugh when you remember the time when you cried and makes you cry when you remember the time when you laughed …may be…some become so obscure that they even fail to stir up any emotions in me. Even some have died down the deepest pit of forgetfulness that they will never come up I guess…

 

Sometimes, when in an idle moment, I just spend some void time, all to myself, some moments from the obscure past sparks back and carries my train of thought away …

 

College—University—school—those days … Tapasya lost her mother recently …memories were flooding back …

 

It was 2005 and we were in the 2^nd year of our college and were armed with the responsibility to organize the "fresher's welcome" for the new first year of the English Department. Amateurish expertise that we had, we were reluctant to have a public display of our foray into the cultural arena during the rehearsals. Class room wasn't the safe idea given the unalarmed intrusions. Canteen and the roof top were discarded for the obvious reason. While the bunch of young adults was engrossed in the worrisome think session as to where to rehearse, the tiny, pretty girl hopped in with the brilliant idea of her house. First time I took notice… the tiny cute girl … Tapasya … Tapi for us … and we all stationed ourselves at her place. There we met her … or favorite Kakima…with her ever smiling face and often creative inputs. She became our supreme advisor … song selection, dialogue preparation, voice training …this and that … she was so much there even in her absence in the final programme …we never noticed…never did we mention her all through …

 

College passed by, we got busy. Some for a reason … some like me, just to show we are busy … She is no more … at this hour I suddenly remember her and this guilt chokes me …

Shame! Shame!