Those good olden days

I was looking into mobile waiting for someone’s message. There are so many instances when you look into your mobile screen even without blinking an eye for that one message from your loved one. You keep waiting for hours for that one message and when that message actually arrives you know that happiness has no bounds.

I kept on staring at my whats-app screen; maybe I was waiting for that one special message from that one special person who actually doesn’t exist. While scrolling all those old messages, I found something called as ‘Archived messages’ which I hadn’t used for few years now. I opened and to my surprises I found few of my chats that I had with people who never bats an eye for me now.

It was nostalgic reading them all. I doubt whether I could text someone the way I did during those days. Though most of them had befriended me or I had befriended them, those chats remained in the Archived list which I never paid any attention over these years. There were lots of stuff like, “You are my best friend”, “We are the best friends in the world”, “We will be friends forever”, “You are the most important person in my life” and hundreds more.  Even I had given those fitting replies to everyone which brings a smile onto my face since most of them who said we were friends forever, either had blocked me or I had blocked them or we had stopped talking.

            

         My Mom called me to help my Grandfather to clean his room while I was still engaged in reading. While reading few conversations I remembered that there were so many other conversations that had not been stored. While I was still in my thoughts my Mom called me for the second time, I knew that she would continue to call me until I help out Grandpa to clean his room.

     

           I closed my mobile and went downstairs. There were large wooden boxes that were on the floor. I never ever had imagined such huge worn out wooden boxes existed in our house. The first things that I thought was why the hell did these craps were not thrown out. I sat on the couch and stared at my Grandpa as he began to clean those huge wooden boxes. He handed me a cloth to clean the other and I looked asif I had been ordered to stab a person.

                “Why don’t you thrown this away Grandpa? You can buy some new cases if you wish” I said looking at those boxes in haste. He smiled at me, dropped his cloth and sat beside putting his hand around my shoulder. He saw in my eyes and said, “The real moment may disappear but you will always have the memory to remind you and when someone you love becomes a memory then memories become treasure.”

                Only after few seconds I understood what he had said. I never knew that words have so much power that it can make you forget everything for a while. He told me to open those boxes and I could see thousands of letters inside them. Grandpa told me that he and Grandma used to exchange letters every week when he used to work for the army. They made sure that they have saved each and every letter that they have written over those 5 years and even after that.

                I opened few letters and I could feel how important that these letters must be. These aren’t just letters which contained words, but words that described about their life. Love was something so pure back then. Pain was so painful. Distance made them love even more. It was just amazing seeing all those memories safeguarded. Words which had high value and memories that had an amazing moments in them.

                Grandpa said, “When your Grandma left this world, this is all she gave me; bundles of memories to carry. Those words which she wrote make me feel her presence. We always live and breathe words. It was always her words and letters that made me feel that I was not completely alone. Words were honest with me as I was with them. Reading her words what she wrote for me, made me see the world that she wanted to see, I dreamt what she had dreamt, wanted what she had wanted and then I realized that I just wanted her” he was hugging that letter which was in his hand with tears. It’s just a piece of paper for everyone else but its life for him.

                Paper, pen, words, writing something special for some special person- everything has become so mobilized. Memories are best when they are hand written and preserved for ages rather than storing your chats in mail. Maybe someday write something special and make a memory that would lasts forever. Making someone somewhere smile never makes you sad.

                I take out a paper and pen and start to write for that special person. Maybe it would be a happy memory when we read it few decades later. It’s just a piece of paper for everyone but for the one it means everything.