Memories we make

I saw myself clutching a knife tightly and yet smiling. I saw the color of my cheeks going all red. I saw myself punching a rather ‘healthy’ friend on his tummy and my cheeks blown off in mock humor. Somewhere else I was leaning on him just as my life depended on his shoulders. Yet again, I was crowded with familiar faces dripping with glee. I had put on the most horrendous looking outfit I never remembered buying. Oh! Even more horrible was the next. But I could not help but notice the all teeth barring smile and the twinkle in my eyes.

Some-Memories1

Photographs. I am a big photo fan. Each time I get a chance I am ready with my camera and stupid poses. Friends, cousins, family…anyone clicks a picture; I jump to be in it. I remember having all the albums stacked in my mom’s battered old suitcase and put up behind on the storage shelf. Time and again, I browse through those and have a hearty laugh. Sometimes, even let a tear escape my eye when I miss someone in it dearly.

Surprising at how many memories a picture triggers. Yesterday was one such day. I was browsing through some old pictures I had uploaded. Some faces from the pictures, I remember were so close to me like they were an inseparable part of my existence. I would cry if they were hurt and dance like a jack if they had a reason to party. Back then, I never imagined there would come a time where they will cease gaining importance in my life. They are not really my enemies now, but they don’t matter anymore. We are cordial when we meet, but we are not the best of friends. Pictures are no less of magic. They make you realize that even if the person is not close to you at the moment, they were some of the most beautiful chapters in your life at some time. They shared with you, some of the deepest secrets and some of the heartiest laughs.

Looking at old pictures takes me back to the days where it all seemed so much simpler. Smiling faces from one photo to the next, reflecting on how we used to be and look like. Somewhere in the course of growing up, life intervened and we changed. Maybe good, maybe bad, but we’ve grown. Either way pictures make me cherish all the memories. The time when I was posing for a photograph, I only thought about giving the best of my smiles and the most awesome of my pose. Yet, looking back now, each of the picture makes me look at myself in awe about how I dressed, how I laughed and most importantly, my hairstyle. It is a totally different me out there. But yet, I cherish each one of those, remembering the little joke I shared, feeling the elation of a party, the lame long dresses and oily plaited hair makes me go ugh! But the innocent smile within makes me crave it more today.

Just the other day, I downloaded some of my pictures dating back 2010 and older and sent it to friends in it. We had a good laugh. But deep down, I know, even they missed those days as much. A silent wish of going back to the good old days, reliving the memories, minus the shabby dresses. We can’t go back to the awesome times we took for granted, but we can always cherish them in pictures.

Bring out your old album, give each photograph a moment and you will be amazed about how sharp your subconscious is. And don’t be surprised if you can feel the day running in some part of your brain as it was just a recent memory. Pictures. Amazing bundle of memories.

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About Shweta

An ambitious professional who loves working in a corporate as much as she loves spending time with family. Pursues writing as a passion and writes for stuff that closely touch the heart!
This entry was posted in Chapters of Life and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Memories we make

  1. rahilvora says:

    Superb
    Past Memories grow inside and makes us feel happy !!!

    Like

  2. Tushar Dhanwani says:

    I agree with u, lukg out old pics recollects u old memories , make feel happy for that moment . So keep smiling n stay happy god bless

    Like

  3. Pepper says:

    Whoa! Award! 😀
    Thank you so much, girl! I am thrilled, as always..

    Like

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