WALLS THAT WALK WITH US

As I began writing on the idea of “forgetting as a form of wisdom,” a recent incident moved me deeply and made my reflections even more personal. It was the tragic crash of Air India Flight 171 in Ahmedabad earlier this year. The event was not just an aviation disaster — it became a lesson in how the human mind holds pain far longer than the body can bear.

According to reports in The Times of India, many residents living near the crash site, especially children, developed intense fear and anxiety in the weeks that followed. Some could not sleep. Others froze every time they heard an aircraft overhead. Psychologists who visited the area described the same phenomenon in almost every home — the trauma had taken root, not in flesh, but in memory.

One woman told the newspaper that her son, though not directly affected by the crash, screamed each night recalling the explosion. Another man said, “Every plane that passes feels like it’s coming for us.” The tragedy had ended physically, but mentally it replayed endlessly — like a film the heart could not turn off.

That story touched me profoundly because it captured the central truth of our age: we are living in a memory-sick society. News, social media, and even personal experiences have taught us to record everything — but not to release anything. We rebuild roads and repair walls, but who rebuilds the mind? Who teaches us how to forget wisely?

The Air India 171 case reminds us that memory, when left unchecked, can become a psychological prison. The victims and witnesses were not only struggling with what happened, but with what refused to stop happening inside them. The echo of that moment had become their constant companion.

“Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.”

The Ahmedabad tragedy is a mirror for every human life: we all face moments that cannot be undone, losses that cannot be retrieved. But if we cannot forget, we lose something greater than what was lost — we lose ourselves. Forgetting, therefore, is not abandonment; it is liberation.

Friedrich Nietzsche once observed, “The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.”

This simple yet profound statement reveals an often-overlooked truth: the ability to forget is not a weakness, but a strength. Forgetting, in Nietzsche’s view, is not the absence of knowledge — it is the renewal of the soul. It allows a person to break free from the burdens of the past and embrace the possibilities of the present.

In today’s society, where memory is glorified and the digital world immortalises every experience, the art of forgetting has almost disappeared. People remember not to learn but to linger over pain, rejection, and regret. This cultural obsession with remembrance has made emotional healing increasingly rare.

The Psychology and Philosophy of Forgetting

Modern psychology supports Nietzsche’s wisdom. Human beings are not designed to carry every emotional burden indefinitely. Forgetting acts as a natural defence mechanism — it filters pain, allowing the mind to preserve balance and resilience. When one refuses to forget, sorrow becomes identity, and identity becomes imprisonment.

George Bernard Shaw echoed a similar thought:

“The most uneducated person is one who has nothing to forget.”

Education, therefore, is not merely about accumulating information; it is about learning when to let go. A wise society educates its people not only to remember the past but also to forget what threatens inner peace.

Forgetting and Society: A Mirror of Modern Life

Our society today suffers not from lack of memory but from over-memory. Social media preserves every failure, every insult, every heartbreak — trapping individuals in digital archives of pain. Many young people find it harder to move on, as reminders of lost relationships, rejections, or personal failures resurface through screens. The collective inability to forget has led to rising cases of anxiety, depression, and emotional fatigue.

In contrast, earlier societies practised collective forgetting. Communities that experienced tragedy — wars, disasters, or social humiliation — often healed through shared silence, rituals, and renewal. They chose to rebuild, not replay. As philosopher Søren Kierkegaard said,

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”

Modern society, however, keeps looking backwards, confusing memory with identity and pain with depth.

Case Study: The Death of Sylvia Plath — A Life Consumed by Memory

The tragic story of Sylvia Plath (1932–1963), the celebrated poet, stands as a haunting example of what happens when the human mind becomes trapped in its own memories. Despite her literary brilliance, Plath was haunted by personal losses, failed relationships, and the weight of unhealed memories. Her inability to release the past culminated in her suicide at just 30 years old.

Psychologists studying her work argue that Plath’s perfectionism and self-critical memory created a “loop of despair,” preventing her from emotionally recovering (Jamison, 1993). Her story reminds us that memory, when unchecked, can become a self-consuming fire — burning even the brightest minds.

The Prison of Memory: The Story of Viktor Frankl

When the Nazi soldiers stormed through Vienna in 1942, Dr Viktor Frankl, a brilliant psychiatrist, was sent to Auschwitz. He lost everything — his parents, his wife, his unborn child. In that camp of death, the nights were endless, the cries uncounted.

Each day, he saw people die — not only from hunger, but from hopelessness. Some gave up, whispering, “There is nothing left to live for.” But Frankl, amid despair, began to see something profound. He realised that though everything could be taken from a man, one freedom always remained — the freedom to choose one’s attitude.

He later wrote in his book Man’s Search for Meaning:

“Forgetting is not weakness. It is the wisdom to unchain yourself from what you cannot change.”

When the war ended, Frankl could have chosen bitterness. He could have let his mind live forever in the prison of grief. But instead, he built a new philosophy — logotherapy, a therapy of meaning. He taught that human beings survive not by remembering pain endlessly, but by transforming it into purpose.

His story is one of the greatest examples of how forgetting becomes an act of courage. Frankl didn’t erase the Holocaust from memory — he gave it meaning, and in doing so, freed his soul.

Moral and Relevance

In today’s society, many live like prisoners of memory — trapped by old hurts, failures, and rejections. Frankl’s life shows that education is not only learning facts, but learning when and how to let go.

“Those who cannot forget remain chained to their past; those who forgive, begin to live.”

Forgetting as Forgiveness

Forgetting is not denial — it is forgiveness in motion. It allows the human heart to forgive time itself. Nelson Mandela, who spent 27 years in prison, famously said:

“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.”

Mandela’s wisdom teaches that freedom is not achieved by remembering every injustice, but by forgetting those that imprison the spirit. His example transformed South Africa’s pain into reconciliation — showing that forgetting, when guided by forgiveness, can rebuild nations.

Similarly, Mahatma Gandhi believed that holding on to hatred was a greater loss than losing one’s freedom.

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

Case Study: Post-Traumatic Memory Among Kashmiri School Children — “Echoes in the Valley”

In Kashmir, memory does not live in books — it breathes in streets, echoes in silence, and sits quietly in young hearts. After years of conflict, a study by the Department of Psychiatry, GMC Srinagar (2021) found that nearly 45% of school-going children showed symptoms of trauma, including:
Panic during separation from parents

These kids never held a weapon, but war held them.

And yet — like mountains wearing snow and still blooming spring — they fight back quietly. Schools introduced expressive-arts therapy sessions, peer support circles, and nature walks. Teachers were trained to read silence like a textbook. Prayer mats, poetry notebooks, and cricket bats became healing tools.

The Educational Perspective: Teaching the Art of Forgetting

In education, we teach students to remember formulas, facts, and history — but rarely do we teach them the discipline of forgetting. Yet forgetting is essential for emotional intelligence. A child who learns how to forget a moment of humiliation or failure learns resilience. A teacher who forgets an insult from a parent models maturity. As educators, parents, and leaders, our task is not merely to fill minds with memories but to strengthen hearts with the wisdom to let go.

Alright, buddy, let’s add a real Kashmir-based, research-grounded story that flows with your theme of memory, trauma, and the courage to let go. Your article talks about psychological prisons — memory as a wound and forgetting as liberation. Kashmir has lived this truth painfully and profoundly.

Case Study: Post-Traumatic Memory Among Kashmiri School Children — “Echoes in the Valley

Recurring nightmares
Fear triggered by loud sounds
Sudden emotional withdrawal
Hyper-alertness
Panic during separation from the parent.

One student from Pulwama told researchers:

“I don’t remember the exact day anymore… but my heart remembers the sound.”

Another child from Baramulla said:

“Every time a helicopter flies over school, I feel like the sky is warning me again.”

These kids never held a weapon, but war held them.

Researchers observed a powerful pattern:

Children who were encouraged to talk, write, pray, and then let memories settle — instead of reliving them endlessly — showed faster emotional recovery.

Healing wasn’t forgetting facts;

It was forgetting fear.

It’s proof that in Kashmir too, memory can be a cage — but it can also be a bridge when guided with compassion, routine, purpose, and gentle detachment.

That’s Himalayan strength

Case study: A Boy Who Tried to Forget by Fire

In one of my classrooms in Kashmir, I once taught a ninth-grade boy whose childhood had been shattered by conflict. After losing his father to violence, grief wrapped around him like a chain he could not break. In a desperate attempt to silence the memories that stalked him, he began drinking petrol siphoned from parked vehicles — not out of addiction, but as a wild, burning plea for escape. The world saw a problematic child; I saw a wounded heart fighting shadows too heavy for its age. Through patience, trust, prayer, gentle guidance, and steady routine, he learned to breathe again instead of drowning in his past. Years later, he reached out not as a boy in pain but as a bank professional abroad — living proof that when education touches the soul, healing becomes possible. Forgetting did not erase his suffering; it freed him from being defined by it.

Conclusion

To forget is to live again. To forgive is to breathe again. The art of forgetting, as Nietzsche and Shaw both implied, is the highest form of wisdom — because it allows us to preserve our humanity in the face of pain. A society that remembers everything becomes sick with bitterness; a society that knows what to forget grows in peace.

Let us, therefore, teach our young minds not only the art of remembering but also the grace of forgetting — for in that lies the true education of the heart.

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