Now, I forget.
There used to be a time when I would vividly recreate memories from my childhood, early childhood, that my elder sister refused to believe I could remember. She would always say I was making them up because she couldn’t remember them at all! Those were the days when I would remember people and names, and could attribute the right names to the right faces. I remembered people I’d met but once, people who did not, much to my chagrin/embarrassment, remember me. That was when I went to bed with a to-do list in my head, and remembered next morning to actually do those things. I would remember to call people on their birthdays, to buy them gifts, to be there. Now, I just forget. And I think I do not regret it. I do not regret losing a bit of ‘my good memory’, because honestly, I want to forget so much.
Of all the things I forget — people, names, dates (yes, I never remember what date it is today, even though I work in a daily newspaper), I’m most thankful I forget the grudges I once had against some people. I forget why it was important to me then to mind what someone said, to take umbrage to how I was treated… No, honestly, I am beginning to forget why I had a squabble or a fight with anyone. Most importantly, even when I remember the reasons I drifted apart from certain people, I do not remember why I cared so much. I think sometimes, why exactly did I react so sharply in a particular situation, and I can’t remember. So I let go — of the memory of that situation, the feeling, the negativity associated with it. I feel free when I forget so much.
Perhaps, if I think long and hard, I will be able recall the exact sentiments, but I do not want to. I do not want to remember why and how of things that were so unpleasant. Because they just do not matter to me anymore.
Which is not to say I have forgotten everything that has ever gone wrong in my life. Some moments are etched like forever in my mind. They will go with me to my grave. But that’s because they are still important to me, perhaps in a life-altering sort of way. The things I forget, I think there isn’t any space left in my head, or life, for them. They’re redundant and therefore I can get rid of them. Not so long ago, I would have had to make a concerted effort to forget. But now, I couldn’t be happier I have learnt to not remember.