Tag: people

Remember, remember

It don’t have to be the fifth of November.

Life is so full of events and people that make those moments worthwhile. Living in those moments, we make memories we cherish forever.

But we don’t always remember everything as it is. We forget quite a lot too.

Memory bias is real. That’s the problem. We choose what we want to remember, and sometimes we choose to forget uncomfortable incidents or people we don’t want to encounter again. We may forget the favour of a friend, the sacrifice of a parent, the persistence of a teacher—all just because our priorities shift.

And sometimes, our memories are no longer the same. We think we’re happy today, but when looking back at today’s memory years later, we may realise something more profound about this moment. Who’s to say, we may even feel then that the happiness of today was pretence—a result of societal pressure. Everyone has their own stories, their own perspectives. What is a good or bad memory depends on who we are at the moment. After all, as the years go by, as we mature, even memories (and memories of those memories) fade away.

And that’s why we shouldn’t rely too much on memories. Although there’s so much we can learn from remembering the past, it’s also so easy to overdo it. It doesn’t do to dwell in the past and forget to live in the present. And sometimes, we do just that. We let precious memories of days gone by cloud our judgement and hinder our progress.

It’s like the trivial selfie culture. People obsess over photographing places and things, so much so that they’re no longer in the moment. Our intense desire to memorialise an incident, drives us away from internalising the memory itself.

In the same way, we obsess with the good old days that we fail to realise that better days will come. And therein lies the inertia of making new memories, of trying new things. We worry so much about living up to the past that we forget to live in the present, fearing that the future wouldn’t be as good as the past.

Let’s be thankful for the past, remember it with gratitude, and use it to shape ourselves a better future. The past isn’t a curse we should cling to. It’s, instead, a lesson that we should live through, learn, and pass on.

Thanks for today’s muse, Kumud and #SpiritChat.

Game age

English teachers at the Mount High School stared at each other. “Methinks,” a student had opened her essay. She wasn’t the only one.

Although they mixed up thou and thee, all of a sudden students were making conscious, albeit tardy, efforts to converse in the ancient tongue. As if a great wave of archaism had swept over the school.

Perplexed, sixty-year-old Professor Henry questioned Timothy.

“Oh, we’re practising for this game—Speak like Socrates. Whoever speaks the longest wins an iPhone.”

Socrates was Greek, Henry wondered. But Tim had left. It wasn’t about the language. ‘Twas all about the game.

All in good time

When I heard the daily prompt, awkward, a few days ago, the first thing that popped into my head is that awkwardness is inexperience. And the more I dwelt on it, the more I related to it.

I relived my first few weeks at work. I was young, teetering at the last teen age. I knew big things awaited me, but I feared deep of unknown promises of the future. I wasn’t sure I was ready to take whatever the world would giveth. I met a lot of people—and having grown up in a modest town with limited exposure to the outside world, accepting a job in Chennai, a metropolitan city of 4 million, was a little more than overwhelming. I withdrew within myself, using my inherent introversion to stay away from conversations or introductions.

Soon I’d created a reputation for myself as the one who’d cling to the seat, unspeaking, involuntary to contribute opinions. I never spoke in meetings, sulking instead, in a corner, with my arms crossed, listening to the seniors as well as the more extroverted juniors speak their mind. Later, alone in my room, I’d reason I didn’t have an opinion to share.

Today, five years later, there’s drastic difference in me. Not only am I more outspoken of my opinions and observations, but I’m also more confident in meeting people. I’m comfortable interacting with my team members, listening to their arguments, refuting when necessary, and putting forth my arguments in sequence. (Although I still need practice on come back statements and spontaneous debates,) I see the huge progress I’ve made over the years. And when I greet a new comer in the team, my feet no longer feel too large and my tongue doesn’t twist inside my mouth. Instead of shuffling my feet in discomfort, I feel empowered. My handshakes are stronger and my face relaxes into a easy-going smile. I’ve felt myself changing from the scared person I used to be.

And this made me wonder: Have I become an extrovert all of a sudden?

I haven’t. I’m still the same introvert who needs downtime, who prefers solitude over company, who’s happy dining alone.

In fact, I realised, we often misunderstand awkwardness as introversion. An inexperienced person may feel awkward in many situations, but that doesn’t make them an introvert. Funny how we name personality traits even before we know better.