If you ask me, which obviously you haven’t, but that’s okay since I am going to say it anyway, something drastic needs to be done, like a complete overhaul or something, and that too pronto. Of what, I hear the readers ask. Never mind if you haven’t. It’s how I imagine things and that’s what matters in these things. Anyway, the answer is: An overhaul of the department in charge of memory. Mine, to be exact.
The one in charge seems to be an utterly confused and incompetent whatchamacallit with no clue as to their assignment which basically is to pull out the right stuff at the right moment and go ‘Tada!’ Easy peasy, right? But does that happen? No. Nyet. Nada.
When I think ‘what shall I write today?’, the least, the very least, the teeniest-weeniest least that Memory can do is to pull out the very specific Memory No. 2348721099 from the folder it had been dropped into previously when I was otherwise occupied either cooking or cleaning, and flash it across my mind’s eye.
In that same folder will be other memories too like Memory No. 2348721098 and also Memory No. 2348721100, both related stuff as also many others distantly related ones. Of course, as a bonus, those can also be pushed to the fore by a helpful Memory so I can take my pick. After all variety is the spice of life and what better than to have variety to choose from?
When I am done with the walk, the chores, dinner, reading, staring into space and twiddling my thumbs or whatever it is I am done with, and finally sit down with a contented sigh to write and ask for the relevant file to be produced, the fool of a Memory gives me a blank one from the folder at their disposal. Can you believe it? Atrocious behaviour, if you ask me. The following is a sample of what then ensues between us.
Is this what you wanted?!
No, NO! This one’s a blank sheet. The other one which I asked you to file away in the morning while I was busy cooking?
Oh! Okay, here it is.
You duffer! This one is blank too. Take out the one I asked you to file away mid-morning while I was folding clothes. Or even the one which I sent your way while dusting…?
Right away. Here you are.
WTF! Blank again! Why the heck are you passing me blank sheets? I filled them up all nicely before giving them to you!
What about that rant? I knew I had ranted away about something or other! It must have been at least one thousand and five hundred fifty nine words long. Hmm.. Or maybe it had been one thousand five hundred and fifty seven.
What had it been about?
How would I know that, you @#!&%$###!!!!!! That’s why I give things to you to put it in the right bleddy folder. Come on now, go on and search for it.
Nope, nothing here. These are all I have.
Aaaaaaaargh!!!!! I give up. This is more than I can take. I have a headache coming on. I think I will go sleep.
Good idea. Want me to bring out anything to lull you to a peaceful sleep?
I do not deign to reply to that last question. Instead I hope the red heat of my annoyance burns the department to ashes, umm.. may be not, enough to burn Memory to make it howl in pain. Even while I am imagining that howl of pain, suddenly out of nowhere, the line of an old, really, really old song, one I heard last when I was eight or nine and not once in all the intervening years, comes to mind. And I find myself singing the lyrics with nary a mistake. Ha, what perfect memory., I have! I cut short the silly beam that spread across my face unknowingly. I am not amused, I tell myself before proceeding to grill Memory.
What? You have been keeping this useless file safely for this long? Why???!! And why the heck have you brought it out now? I don’t need the lyrics to old forgotten songs. Like it is any good to me. I am not a professional, just a bathroom singer. A fat lot of good these lyrics are when all I want is to write about whatever it is I was thinking of writing on.
Now it is Memory’s turn to deign not to reply. Oh well. Like I said earlier, I give up. 😉
©Shail Mohan 2022