Dr. Simmi Gurwara
Memories last forever. Not necessarily. No twos they are the most treasured source of happiness for us mortals who simply love to wrap them up in a carefully woven mixed fabric, safe in the caverns of our cognitive labyrinth. They lie there sprawling leisurely in an alligator-like fashion. And we don’t mind living forgetfully, without any remorse till we are pinched by the volubility of a certain somebody, anybody or nobody for that matter because our very own hyper-sensitivity plays the spoilsport. It is then that we wake up bleary-eyed and clear the dangling cobwebs that threaten to lessen the glisten of memoirs. We want them sharp and shining- easy to recall, reproduce and refurbish- whenever there is a need- both personal and occupational.
Memories serve multiple emotional purposes. They soothe us; they sneeze at us. They make us merry, wary and morose. We are required to be emotionally intelligent to tackle the avalanche that comes rolling down from the memory juggernaut. Otherwise, we get caught empty-handed, bereft of our tool-kit to protect us from the no side but direct effects of reminiscences as they remind us of those unpleasant (in majority of cases) occurring which tear into the calm and create disquiet, leaving us disgruntled and disheveled, once again.
At times these treacherous little big things visit us in a bizarre manner when we are expecting them in the least. We blame others for making us relive the agony that we underwent until the pain subsides and we are relieved of our worked-up-state-of-mind. Till the time it lasts, it ignites reactions from every pore of our person. We quake in angst towards those who we think sponsored our painful memorabilia. The more we rave and rant about the wrongs embedded in our memories, the more we flinch and the more we are flustered, glowering at those who orchestrated our miseries. The biggest harm in being a grave digger is that you lose control over the present. The surliness that accompanies this exorcism is killing to the core. It dries out the repertoire of positive energy and fills us with villainous vibes which hover all around creating disruptions at all levels. What such memories deserve is a quick and quiet burial.
If experience is the teacher, memories are the monitors. Our behavior is constantly monitored by the memories that graphically represent the reasons to reason us out. What we extract and how much we exhume is a matter of pure choice. Memories can stick out like a sore thumb or pout at us in a most unpalatable manner. Though all behavior is linked to memory, perceptual differences- both interpersonal and intrapersonal- set us apart. Say what you may, bad memories need to be forgotten. Selective amnesia could be of great help. It aids in recuperating from the past turmoil; allows us to stay positive and agile. Therefore, it is good to be apathetic towards the memories that have the potential to upset the applecart.
Isn’t it wise to ditch sour memoirs? Whenever they erupt they create a ruffle and we are submerged in the losses and resulting longings for an unreasonably longer period of time that gobbles up the here and now. Our present is the greatest casualty under such circumstance. The fever and fret of unsavory events blindfolds and makes us constricted in our approach. We yowl to express our hurt but in turn get doubly hurt. Finally, it turns out to be a bad bargain. The best thing is to let go. Or so does it seem.