On forgetting

Of late, I had been forgetting things with alarming frequency. I drop my wristwatch somewhere and then I can’t remember where. I put my wallet in a corner and then I go totally blank. I keep looking for a T-shirt for two days only to find it on the terrace (apparently, I myself had left it there to dry). Each day I have to struggle really hard not to keep forgetting something or the other. And pretty often I fail miserably. And, of course, add to it my dilemma over not being able to remember names when it matters the most. I’m awful at remembering things, I accept.

This morning I reach office and at the gate I find that I am not carrying my access card. I go to the security for a dummy card but, for some strange reason, they can’t locate my information in the database and hence can’t allow me in. I call one of my colleagues to escort me in, go to the badging room, get my information updated, come out to get a dummy access card and then enter the office. ‘A perfect way to start a Monday morning,’ I say to myself as I enter the office premises.

Now, given a chance I would have liked to forget so many things. But, these, I never seem to forget. They keep resurfacing from my memory at unexpected turns and make me cringe at my foolishness.

Well, one more irony of life: things we want to remember will be forgotten, the things we want to forget will be remembered.