I struggled so much yesterday trying to write a post..
Following are few of the drafts that were auto saved in blogger..
I am scared..
I can actually see the grin on your face each and every time I told you that fear is not my middle name for I am Methran Thambi’s grand daughter..( telling that to a true and true naga warrior)
The name Methran Thambi was my amulet..and being the warrior that you are, it never ceased to amuse you.
You live in me..with every breath I take.. and yet I worry that..with the years that seems to slip through in to some sort of black hole, I will forget things about you.. I am sure your family will remember you..but surely, it wouldn’t be how I remember you..
I remember how you insisted to count my eyelashes because I am a Malayalee and am blessed with abundant eye lashes.. You made me keep my eyes open, so you could count them..and I did..it took a while for me to learn that you really were not counting..you were enjoying, getting me to keep my eyes open without blinking!
Memories of you is like chewing the bubblegum and blowing bubbles..you do it gingerly..worrying every second that bubble will burst and you will end up with gum splattered on your face and lips..
This is the 5th attempt of writing since this evening.
I don’t ever spend hours thinking and writing.. Usually each blog post is type as I go.. including the spelling and grammatical mistakes that are so part of my blog. ( I could read what I type, but I don’t. Every word that I wrote came from my heart and why would I want to read it again?)
Two things I wanted to write..and both gets mangled in to a mess and I can’t seem to separate it..so perhaps this post makes only sense to me..
I have this fear…
Ok, I can see your sheepish grin.. each time I told you I am Methran Thambi’s grand daughter and am not scared of anything..
The thing is..you live in me..with every breath that I take..
I feel I am responsible to keep your memory alive..and I worry that, I might forget something about you.. Yet, there are things about you, only I know. I wanted to keep that..in my little chest..
You know, No one knows about Kouros.. I never told anyone about it. I never bought it for anyone either.. It was your scent..
Each time I think of you.. I wonder if you knew your time on earth was short.. Was that why you were so different from everyone else? At that time the guys in our college were using Old spice and Brut..and you were using Kouros. I am sure even now a lot of people wouldn’t have heard of Kouros..but you were different..
This post seems to be the most difficult one I have ever written..
I am down with a bad case of flu and am stuck at home. My brain seemed to be in a Claritin induced haze..Ideally, that would have been a good excuse.. ..
But that is not the reason why I am finding it hard to write the blog today.
I want to write..so much about you..because my biggest fear is that when I dredge my memories the advancing years might do what it always does..hide things that were once important.
You live in me..with every breath I take..yet I worry that if I forget a fraction of a tiny detail, I am doing the biggest injustice to you.
But then again, there are things only I know..and I wanted it to be like that.
I never told anyone about Kouros..all these years..till I blogged about it last week.
I never bought Kouros for anyone..I couldn’t. It was your scent..
The truth is..I can’t fill the void you left behind.. I tried..trust me..I tried..
and finally the answer..
I think I have hyperthymesia..I spend all of yesterday reading about Eidetic memory and Hyperthymesia..
A lot of it makes sense..and a lot doesn’t.
I have high IQ.
I do not think I have OCD..but I am a perfectionist. I like things arranged in a certain order, however I don’t spend hours trying to make things perfect.
I also need to cook food..to smell it..just the way I remember it.. ( Eidetic + olfactory) and can spend hours looking for that perfect recipe that can replicate the smell I am looking for..If I want to remember some events..I simply cook what I ate that particular time..and I can teleport myself to the same moment..even after 30 years.
I know most of you would laugh when you read this.. that I don’t live in the past..I don’t spend an obsessive amount of time thinking of the past..however..my mind is like a continuous movie ..
I woke up this morning thinking about my mother and how much I miss her.. there was a photo in Malayala manorama this morning..a grieving mother hugging her daughter..and her arms are visible.. and that was all I needed to think of Amma’s hands..I can see the progression of age..I can see her arm when I was young.. smooth skin adorned with her gold bangles..I can see each and every bangle..even the broken one..to the time she took of her bangles..to the time we bought her those thick single bangles that were the fashion in mid 90’s ..two knobby projections meeting in the center,,red and green lacquer paint..to the time she came to Brisbane..with no bangles again, but full of wrinkles.. I can even see the burn mark in her arm.. when the oil splashed while she was making achapam..
The only thing that doesn’t make me a true hyperthymestic is.. I don’t relate to dates truly..I remember historical events..and I know what I was doing when the things that I consider are important happened. I know what I was wearing..but I don’t know the dates..( However.. I used to know all the history dates..including the DOB of famous people at one time..Not anymore)
So back to my issue with writing..
I worry that I will forget something about the love of my life.. and somethings I want to keep for myself..it is my private movie..
and I know there really is no escape.