I ran into someone today who shared atleast eight years of childhood with me. I didnt remember him and his feeble “your face is familiar” was the best we came to recognition. As we exchanged stories of parallel lives over the next hour, I realised just how contrasting our memories were. My broken, faded images were hardly a match for his sharp profiling.
He proceeded to narrate to a disbelieving audience the greatness of a school they could hardly appreciate. I remembered then that I also once felt like that. I wish moving on did not mean loss of memory.