The Jar of memories I will not visit   Like the stars in a galaxy My happy memories shine brightly.   The moments of despair and darkness I’ve imprisoned in a jar, sealed tightly.   I never want to remember. My encounters with Science or numbers.   Or the days I lost Ma and Pa And my dear friend Vibha.   The darkness of the day When a certain diagnosis was made.   I hated the call. That warned me of a financial squall.   Broken friendships Trust turned to rust. I hate them all.   As heavy as elephants As  dark as the night These are memories. I shall keep Out of my light. 

 The City Where Memories Are Currency   I visited the city of Memoryville, where memories are used as currency, and headed to the Memory Market, a square lined with cobblestone streets and vendors selling memories in little glass vials in lamplight.  Here was a market where you could trade sadness for joy, the memory of the time when you were ill for good health, your heartbreak for a fresh start, and your tangled thoughts for peace of mind. The wealthy traded their fame and success for laughter and nostalgia, while the poor sold the few good days for a little comfort. The next day, I felt a little lightheaded and empty. I couldn’t remember the faces of my parents, nor remember the earthy scent of petrichor that  I so loved nor the name of my favourite comedy show, the fun vacations that I’d enjoyed at my grandparents’ homes. I was in tears. I’d wish the thief had taken away the bad ones as well- but they were in a separate vial, locked in my closet. I...

  Television Memories   I remember Dad listening to cricket commentaries and the news from the BBC on our Murphy radio, and I was all attention every morning as Radio Ceylon aired their'request ‘request programme’ of English songs. Transistors and radio were our gadgets of information and entertainment. .” Television came to India in 1959 with an experimental transmission from New Delhi. Services were extended to Mumbai in 1972 and 1975 and included Chennai, Calcutta, Srinagar, and Amritsar. Colour television in India began making its presence felt in the early eighties.   The first programme in colour to be broadcast by Doordarshan, the public broadcast television channel run by the Indian government was the live telecast of the Independence Day parade of 1982 followed by the Asian Games in New Delhi. Doordarshan also began broadcasting a slew of soaps, comedies, and thrillers. Humlog was the first serial to be broadcast by Doordarshan in 1984. We were the ...

 Travel memories: Kerala   Random Musings:   It was in 2014 that my family and I visited Kerala. Ten years have passed, but the memories of that marvellous holiday have stayed with me. Summer may not be the best time to visit Kerala but some last-minute plans led us to holiday in this awesome land. God’s own country, Kerala leaves you spellbound. This beautiful, tiny state in the southwest of India is lodged between the Arabian Sea on the west and the Western Ghats on the east. Kerala has been named after ‘ Kera ’ or the coconut palm, which is inherent in its landscape and economy. The land has been blessed with a long coastline and numerous beaches and is a vacation hotspot. Kerala is a kaleidoscope of colour and design. Historic monuments, some magnificent fauna and flora, glorious sunshine, miles of endless sea and stretches of yellow sand are what make Kerala a perfect holiday destination. From the moment we stepped down from the plane, we soaked i...

  Forging Friendships   Once upon a time, in 1980, in Jamshedpur, a bunch of girls graduated from different high schools in the town and enrolled in the local women’s college to pursue a degree in Commerce. As they transitioned  from school to college life which was an entirely different culture, the girls were drawn to each other and friendships that have spanned distance and time were forged over Mills and Boon and mutual friends.   A Treasure trove of memories Their college years were marked by unforgettable moments and adventures   Bunking class for movies They sneaked out of class to watch the silliest of movies at the theatre a stone’s throw away from college. Chai and Confessions Gorging on deviled eggs and Jhaal muri and drinking endless cups of chai in the college canteen while making true confessions and having deep conversations marked those happy years. Rotary Phone conversations Endless conversations on rotary phones and letter...

  I  chanced upon a penmanship contest, the topic of which was "When was the last time that you hand-wrote a letter?" Sadly, my handwriting skills have gone unused and have rusted . The topic interested me, but with underused handwriting, what chance did I stand?  Today, I generally only handwrite cheques and grocery lists. If the grocery shopper happens to be my better half, then the grocery list is often sent through  WhatsApp. Today, receiving invitations to celebrations on social media is no surprise . There   are   many happy memories associated with handwriting and receiving handwritten letters.  As a   child ,  I wrote to my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins scattered across the country. The  schoolgirl in me practiced what I had been taught, paying great attention to punctuation, spelling, and grammar when writing.  So much thought went into the penning of the letter. Then came the actual scripting in m...

  One fine morning, I decided to get down to cleaning and decluttering stuff that lay beneath my bed. It was a task that I had procrastinated for far too long. I went down on my fours, pulling out dusty boxes and clearing cobwebs. As I pulled out and went through the boxes, I felt a huge wave of nostalgia wash over me. Each box held items that connected me to my past. Cards, letters, diaries, clothing and other memorabilia.   My mind drifted back to friendships that had shaped my life. Some have fallen by the wayside and some still thrived. One particular friendship stood out from among the rest. Despite the miles that separate us, Celia remains a close friend and confidante. We’ve shared so much. Lost in my reverie, I stumbled upon a neatly wrapped brown paper package. My excitement is akin to an athlete approaching his finish line. I tore open the wrapping and heard myself squealing loudly in delight as I gazed at what lay before me. My husband asked me if I’d found a ...

Four decades have winged by;  Since I crossed a T and dotted an I Within the portals of Sacred Heart High.  Looking back with so much nostalgia  I sift through my memorabilia  And thro’the past I let my mind wander…   Standing in line for morning assembly at 9  Drill, athletics, mathematics That sometimes caused a dreadful colic.  Rotation and Revolution Fractions and chemical reactions  Not Everyone's cup of tea. Yes I remember ol’ Allauddin Khiliji!   ‘March Past Eliminations'examinations  At the time, matters of great consternation! Elocution and debates always on our plates. Sports Day, Hip-hip Hurray! Who’s going to carry the cup away? Kho-Kho, Kabbadi Weren't they favourites of everybody! Singing ditties was so much fun.   Like those lunches we shared beneath the sun… Teachers strict, yet always kind The ones who helped us get thro’ the grind – “Love Conquers All”, they reiterated Lifetime val...

Photographs evoke memories and emotions.  One is overcome by nostalgia, joy and even sorrow as one turns the pages  of an old family album, Today pictures have gone digital but they evoke the same memories and emotions that photographs in an old-fashioned album would.  Leafing through albums of yore - those thick books with coarse black pages, and their four-cornered gummed photograph holders that preserve memorable moments and places can tear you up. When a cousin dug out a few of these old photo albums and posted old pictures of our grandparents and parents on social media I was a bundle of mixed emotions.   My maternal grandparents staring out of the picture reminds me of the gentle and pious folk that they were having left behind a legacy of love and kindness. 'Nana' standing among the pigs that she reared and another one of my uncle chasing a pig for my parents' wedding feast filled me with immense joy and laughter. My pare...