Memories. What are memories? Maybe some realistic dreams. Are they supposed to stay with us till the end of time? Maybe. Are they supposed to make us cry at times? I suppose so. Is there any way to get rid of them? I am looking for an answer to this.

There are a lot of these stupid memories that run through my mind the whole day. Surprisingly, they don't get tired from all this running. Well, let me share it with everybody I know.

There used to be a house. A house that was once a home. A house that was something more than mere four rooms. The house began with the beginning of a family. A married couple and their four kids. They didn’t have much money but had each other’s backs. Wasn’t it enough to live a happy life? There was laughter inside the house, there was sorrow inside the house, and there were unfulfilled needs inside the house. But most importantly, there was a complete family inside the house. Slowly and steadily all the children grew up. It was just the beginning of the ‘letting go’ system.

It was the time when the children had to move out. Some after getting their jobs and some after getting married. Time went by. Those children had their children. The married couple was now on their way toward their second childhood. But was the house left empty? No, it didn’t. The love and bond between the married couple and the children’s children never let that situation arrive. The house now rang louder than ever with the laughter of those children’s children. Running all over the courtyard, playing in the mud, fighting over the remote controller etcetera became a common scenario inside those boundary walls. There was no greed, no egotism, no pride, no vanity, and no self-centeredness. During the nights, the woman of that (now growing old) married couple used to sleep in between the children’s children and tell stories from those days when the woman was still a child herself. Oh! What fun it used to be.

Sounded quite fun. Right?

Alas! Time played its dirty little game again. Now it was time for the children’s children to grow up and move out towards their dreams. And once again, only the (now old) married couple remained. Life made everyone quite busy and the number of visits gradually decreased. The love, the bond still existed in everyone’s hearts but the growing hustle and bustle of life somewhere surpassed that love, quite quietly, unknowingly. But luckily everybody had phones and it became easier to remain in touch. But everything has its limits. Here also, the bond between the children and the of children's children started weakening. One day, the man of that married couple became quite ill. The illness kept on growing and one day, it took away the man with it. The old woman gained a new title apart from a mother, a mother-in-law, and a grandmother. It was a widow’. That one phone call carrying the news of this death made everyone leave their work behind and brought back everyone inside those boundary walls again. Tears, sorrow, emptiness. Those walls became the witnesses. But it was impossible for everyone to move in there. Yet, one of the children’s children remained there taking care of the old woman while others kept on visiting. Sometimes those visits even lasted for months.

Then?

Life moved on a little ahead. Emptiness has now become a habit. Laughter again returned. After all, life and time never stop for anybody. A few years have passed since the day the void was created. For how long death of a person can be mourned? Sounds harsh but is true. Everything was back on track until that one unlucky day. And the emptiness which was about to come was unexpected to everyone. The mother of four, the mother-in-law of four, and the beloved grandmother of eight breathed her last breath. No illness. No pain. A simple quiet death. Death is considered to be the most peaceful way to leave everyone behind. This time also a phone call brought a halt to everybody’s life. No more late-night stories, no more late-night ‘ludo’ games, no more ‘repeating the same incident again and again.

And now?

Now what? Those boundary walls are still in their place. Those rooms are now home to uncountable spiders and cockroaches. A carpet of dust lays all over the floors. The name of the house on the outside of the big old iron gate still exists. All the furniture is still there just the way the old woman had kept them. Everything is just the same. The only difference is that the house is no longer a home. For a bond to exist there should be two people on either side but in this case, one of the sides has been left empty. The laughter of the children’s children, those little arguments between the married couple and their children, the gossips between the daughters and the daughter-in-laws, and those excited shouts during the game of cards can still be heard inside those boundary walls. But nothing to worry about as it ain’t about ghosts. It’s about those memories. Memories are absorbed by those walls. Memories are absorbed by the heart.

.    .    .