I was flicking through the album today, and then when I closed it , I noticed the title  ‘ Sweet Memories’ , not all memories are sweet, some are bitter, some are painful and so on.  Memories come in all sorts of shades and intensities.  Today when I was watching my fathers photographs, his life journey sporadically visible through the photographs, his changing face from a handsome young man of 20 to the photographs taken a few days before his death, his face morphing from a handsome, serene young  face to  morbidly harrowed looking middle aged man. The camera managed to show what in reality he so cleverly hid, and we did not notice.I always look at the photo taken a few days before his death and ask ‘ What are you thinking right now? ” as if I am there at that precise moment when the photo was taken. When I close my eyes and think of him I remember a happy face, a face always ready to smile, yet the photographs tell a different story.  I found this thought very painful and started feeling blue hence I closed the album, ended up  noticing the title. I sat there feeling the pain and there was no point in fighting it . I once read in a book ” Memories are like wolves,you cannot lock them away, but hope they leave you alone”. The book is a fiction called ‘Little Paris Bookshop’, incidentally the author wrote the book to get over the grief of her fathers death with whom she was very close. I do think memories are a very powerful gift, they are like little keys holding an answer. Some of my memories with my father have helped me understand him better, appreciate him more as a human being. Many of his memories have made laugh occasionally with a tear rolling out on to my cheek and some make me very sad and remorseful. Over the years I have discovered , memories themselves do not have emotions, we attach emotions to the memory. Sometimes when we find some memories painful, we consciously or sub-consciously try to suppress such emotions, the brain responds with repressing those specific memories. This in turn sets in motion a whole psychological and physiological battle, or a battle between  mind and body. I guess what I am trying to say is we need to experience the whole gamut of emotions. When I accepted the demise of  my father, along with its grief, loss, the circumstances in which he died, and the pain associated with it I was able to move on. When I accept the emotions, I see hope and peace. Another example I can give is the movie ‘ Inside out’, where when various emotions inside Riley’s head are experienced in full, Riley is able to live a happy and peaceful life.  If you suppress sadness, you will never be able to experience happiness in true and full form.

One of the fond memories I have of my father is when I was in high school and this always brings a smile on my face. I had finished  an essay on Rise of Fascism and left it on on my table, and was reading Archie comic, when my father returned from work, he walked in to my room with a glass of coffee, he noticed the paper on my table and that’s when I realised my error in judgement of leaving a half hearted attempt on table for him to read, a man who had  degree in History and his ancillary subject was Political Science. He read the essay and said ” Idhu enadhu Motta thatha kutaila vizhunda enu ezhidirkea’  which roughly means it has no context,subject or conclusion. He went to the other room , brought a big red book on Political History of Europe and made me rewrite the essay.

Dearest Appa, I always wonder what would you say if you read my writings and blogs. ” You would start there are no punctuation marks, there are numerous grammatical errors and …”  ❤️ Love you loads

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