A trip down Memory Lane

Reads: 298  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
And as I take a leisurely stroll down Memory Lane. The memories of my past come alive.

Submitted: January 24, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 24, 2014

A A A

A A A


MEMORY LANE

As I walked down memory lane, with my hand in my pocket, and my shoulders enclosed tightly like an Inuit, for what I envisioned was glimpses of light were actually images of my eventful past. Each image was framed, and as I kept strolling
down the alley, each picture was revealed so clearly to me. I thought it was all a dream, but it wasn't. It somewhat resembled
an untouchable memorabilia. I kept peering at the pictures so attentively especially those that actually stood out throughout my life.

Over there is the memory of my first day of high school; and there is my first pet gerbil, Adonis; and over here is the day of the "family" picnic. The memories penetrated deep down in my brain, that for some, nostalgia would take its cause. And then, just so sudden, questions began tingling in my head. What is the cause of these pictures? What is the message it's trying to convey to me? I thought profoundly for a moment but it was just unclear. The pictures kept revealing itself continuously, and 
for some surreal reason, it was like all the pessimistic and gloomy images were somewhat trying to warn me about
something. The atmosphere was uneasy. Now I was more cautious than before. I was quite intrigued by the way the images
were portrayed. It seemed almost like the Italian Sistine chapel, with Michelangelo's paintings depicted on the ceiling, so was
the timeline of my life which was exposed against bleak and dreary alley walls.

There was a picture that caught my eye for a moment. I named it: The Boy in the mirror. It depicted me as a mere thirteen year old who saw life in an introspective view. How different one can see one's self through a mirror than in real life, was the moral principle. Now being an outcast throughout my academic life as well as my childhood, I never had any friends; I was bullied several times, and surprisingly derided by my foster parents. Life for me, well, wasn't 
that smooth and therefore ineffective. I was sitting near the pond at the local park one day when that mind-boggling question hit me. I gazed at myself really cautiously in the pond and that's when I started questioning myself. I realised a very important principle, being true to yourself means being honest; it's pointless trying to act somebody you are not
because you'll soon realise that someone is searching for someone like you. From that day thereon, life 
was different for me. Suddenly the picture faded away. I wiped out my eyes and poof! It wasn't there anymore. I was 
puzzled at this stage.

I kept strolling down the alley, and then another picture was in the midst. It turned out to be the sole
portrait of my biological mother standing beside me. My eyes began tearing. I could only remember
her when I was four years old, before my dear mother abandoned me. My aunt said she "went to Australia to continue her research and will stay there forever" although I didn't believe it, and never saw her again. I still wonder why my mother left me? I guess that'll be a mysterious question. But even though she is far away, I'll always remember
how she caressed me, and how she has been a devoted maternal figure for my four years only. It still means a lot to my life.

Not so long off, the picture also faded away. I noticed more and more of the pictures gradually faded away. The next thing I realised there were no pictures near the aloof end of the alley, I then turned around to the other memories that I could reminisce. Many of the images I looked back to were just childhood memories and my bonds with other people.

There was another picture that grabbed my attention. It was myself making a circle with my arms. I remembered that day at elementary school where all the grade three children had to make shapes. I shaped a circle which was supposed to resemble the world. The world symbol seemed quite symbolic to me at such a young age. 
No matter how we interpret the shape of the world, the world's shape will still be circular regardless of our sizes. Perhaps life
is like that? I pondered to myself. We often perceive life to be spontaneous; you know almost like a natural
cycle. It goes round and round infinitely. However, "life is created by man" as I define it.  I describe empty life as a piece of blank paper. We can draw and write something by having a clear idea in our heads. Inventive life on the other hand, is quite similar.

You can attach and create something out of life by having a clear and understandable picture by connecting those
ideas to it. This was my perspective all along, even to this day. So in a nutshell, it was like there was a theme
attached to each picture. Eventually, the dawn came, and all the pictures slowly started to fade away. A part

of myself felt so attached to them, the other was still seeking answers. I looked at the hidden signpost which 
is the only celestial glow that lights the dark and mysterious alleyway, and I say to myself aloud: "Memory Lane. Where dreams and memories are treasures that are never forgotten." 


© Copyright 2020 Marico. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments