Common Mistakes

Well, here’s the deal. I screw up a lot, I make too many mistakes because I do not know how to act and react in many situations. Case in point, when a message came from C, I was having dinner with my friends. One of my friends sees it and asks me a perfectly valid, innocent question, “who is it?” and I react immediately. I make a move to take my phone away from her, my face heats up (even though I don’t blush in the technical sense) and I end up escalating the issue enough that now, four other people know about it. And I feel like crying because I never intended for so many people to know and I cannot help but resent myself for my own stupidity and incompetence. In my defence though, this is the first time something like that has happened in my life and maybe hopefully, with more experience, I shall handle this much better.

But aside from that, I also have a tendency to do things I probably should not, all because I think I am doing someone something good. It is a case of misplaced generosity and it almost always comes back to bite my derriere, despite all my preparation to save myself from the inevitable pain in my derriere. But as I said, my interventional skills coupled with an exasperating memory (which can sometimes remember the dumbest things for ages and important things for a millisecond) is a disastrous combination that has left insane destruction in its wake before. Today, another such situation arose and well, I was so close to ruining everything for everyone. But I managed to somewhat control the situation and now, I think I should try my best to keep it there within the careful confines of rationality. Again, in my defence, I have never done this before and maybe hopefully, with more experience, I will handle it much better.

But aside from these completely sad states of existence is the fact that I keep on forgetting the simplest things. It could be something like forgetting my ID card and standing sadly in the mess during mealtime, it could quite literally be one of the so many things I do on a day-to-day basis. In fact, this blog post itself would not have been written had I persisted with my sleep. I have been doing that a lot lately, I end up sleeping as I am writing my post and I wake up much later, reminded of this endeavour I need to see to fruition and then I have to work again.

Sometimes I wonder how better my life would be if I were not obliged to write a blog post every day. But I also tell myself that we are near the end, almost, of this year. There are not many more months left, I have crossed a majority of it. Maybe I won’t continue this next year, or maybe I shall experiment with themes and things like that next year. But again, next year is still quite far off, nearer, but still far enough. And sometimes, I think, that is something we need to remind ourselves of. Sometimes boundaries are so thin, they can be non-existent. But that doesn’t mean the boundaries don’t exist. It is a very easy mistake to make, something I have made too many times, that has led me to quite a few situations, including the ones that happened today. Maybe I can take this as a lesson and move on?

And that’s my memory for the day.

Shining Memory Sparks

What is it about memories that make them so irresistible? I mean, we are always looking for opportunities to make some memory or the other. We want to hold on to every waking and living moment just so that they will continue to be lived, in our mind. I started this whole blog because I wanted to remember, I wanted to document my memories. And what memories they have been! There have been bad days, horrible days, days pushing me to break down, days when peace overwhelmed me, days when I could look up at the sky and smile for no reason at all, days when some light would light the way up for me and make me feel warm, comforted, and safe. Each of these days, I have written a post every day. Each day has had countless memories, numerous quirks in each of them, that I obviously could not write down about. Many, I have probably already forgotten, it is after all the way of the brain. But the small spark that they no doubt set off in my brain will not be forgotten.

Speaking of memories and forgetting, I was looking at my father’s old laptop. It had been the second laptop of the family, we had got it some time in 2008 or 2009. It had become extremely slow and quite sad, but it had gone through a lot and had served the family faithfully for quite a long time. It had been the computer I had been obsessed by, all that I learnt with and about a computer, was from that computer. Naturally, it held a lot of my old documents, pictures, assignments, and projects. I was curious, I wanted to remember what young 9-year-old Yashasvi had been up to.

Now, as far I remembered, I used to fancy myself as a smart kid–I thought I was smart, creative, and also good in English. Well, naturally, I used to be a much more self-assured kid back then. Then puberty and high-school hit me and down the drain went everything. I think it has become quite convenient for me to blame so many things for my own dwindling self-esteem and other problems. But then, it is also the truth, they contributed immensely to my own failings. But that’s the thing right? They contributed to my failings, not someone else’s. I am reminded of something my parents say–they say, regardless of what people say about you, or whatever happens to you, you are the one who would get affected. The others are not going to go through what you will. So you better not gift yourself that punishment. Regardless of whether puberty or high school contributed to my own failings, the fact is, I have those failings, not them. I have to deal with them, I become the recipient of this horrible prize. It is quite a liberating thought if you think about it long enough.

So I opened these videos and documents in the old laptop and spent quite a long time watching and reading them. Needless to say, I was cringing and laughing through all of them. I could not remember when I had written a few things, could not recollect properly what I had been thinking when I was dancing on stage when I was three and a half years old. It was just a pleasant buzz of memories in my head, I could recollect some vague feelings and thoughts, but that was that. But I think that is the beauty, it reminds me of these lines in a poem by Henry Derozio called A Walk by Moonlight 

“Yes; there are in the backward past
Soft hours to which we turn –
Hours which, at distance, mildly shine,
Shine on, but never burn.”

Yes, the lives we have lived so far have countless memories and thoughts and emotions and ideas. Many, we forget, some, we remember with a decent level of clarity, and quite a few remain as vague buzzes, that are pleasant and shine, but they don’t burn with the same intensity. They are like the smaller stars in the night sky, those that are quite easily masked by even light clouds but continue to shine and twinkle. You can never probably locate them properly, name them like you would be able to name the pole star or some other star, or even the moon and the sun, for that matter. But you still register their presence, they light up the sky for you nonetheless. Isn’t it beautiful? That these memories are sparks that sometimes set off a destructive wildfire, sometimes also light the stove to feed and nourish everyone. But sometimes, they only light a small candle or a lamp that would provide feeble light and warmth. But regardless, the spark is still a spark. The spark I showed in my childhood may have grown feebler, but it is still a spark, still with the potential to light the stove and feed and nourish me. I think I just have to find the right place for me to strike my stones for the spark, right?

And that’s my memory for the day.