My toenail, battered by excessively tight shoes and long walks, was a soldier who almost made it to December. Almost.
The groceries I got last week and somehow completely forgot about. Pears browned, lettuce wilted. I bought them for a life I didn’t live.
This image of my childhood bedroom, I think it was yellow or was it blue ? I can smell the comfort, but without any images for reference. I do not know where this was anymore, this image did not make it past this year.
My bicycle, the one I had since I was 14, the one I had many firsts in, the one my first boyfriend almost broke, the one I raced against time, the one I rode wearing the flowery capris everyone wore in the 2000s.
Faith, the thing that sometimes made me pray, gave me goosebumps. Once a full-time job; now an occasional shift I don't always show up for. The abject powerlessness along with the absurd optimism, all gone.
A bunch of forevers, lie scattered in my head. Blurry memories, faint voices, long pauses. All gone, I could say they left a void, but they had never fully filled one in the first place.
Smiles I will never see again, voices I will never hear again. Eyes that will never gaze upon me, touch that I cannot even remember anymore and bodies that will never walk again. Names now turned to monuments carved with what ifs ? Some names have not reached their destinations, carved on stone deep, unspoken and cold, very cold.
Warmth, warmth abandoned me long before monsoon. Then cold moved in, a tenant I couldn’t evict.
Christmas died in 2018, the last time a long table full of alive, eating breathing humans praying for Christ’s birth and I saw Santa, the beautiful white tree we never use anymore, the last time we decorated, the fake snow, the lopsided wreaths.
Mathematics, calculations did not make it here, the day I realized I could outsource it to my phone. It truly left me and for this I was glad.
DVDs, where did they go ? I went looking for them as a kid, renting them often, My Panasonic DVD player, novelty, awe and white marble floors. Lots of smiles.
Hugs, I remember the strange human ritualistic squishing and the long rounds of squishing at gatherings, the absolute disdain I had for them, no one hugs anyone anymore.
Sony Ericsson Walkman, the cutest thing ever, I never thought I would ever part with mine, my playlist died too, the countless hours with my mum, with my head on her lap, brushing the rough texture of her jeans, singing, “Careless Whisper” it was I think..
I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.
- Christopher Isherwood, Goodbye to Berlin
My phone number in 2020, did not survive the pandemic, just like my phone number in 2017, lying somewhere in the afterlife of pre-owned numbers. I remember how my friends memorized my number and we would brag about it, the hallmark of a good friendship, of the purest teenage love. No one does that anymore.
My Childhood home did not make it this far, and I am afraid its memories are slipping away, the happiest part of my life, the long rooms, French windows, fireplace in every room. Now reduced from brick and mortar to memory. Its a Highway now vast and efficient but devoid of spirit. Memory doesn’t stand a chance against concrete.
My first bestfriend, someone you couldn’t wait to meet again, endless laughter, yellow frocks and flowery sandals, fondness, “we always have a good time together”, the simplicity of companionship, All gone with the fragility of the adult ego.
My wisdom tooth, gone just a few weeks after it showed up, no space- the dentist said, I knew, none for wisdom for sure.
Abandoning and being abandoned has continued this winter. These fragments of life, identity, memories and metaphysical absences don’t just vanish. They find a new home in the quiet world of things that didn’t make it this far. Scattered in the soil of my identity, they take root as echoes, whispers and shadows.
Somehow I carry absence better than presence. It settles for lighter, asks for less and cannot abandon me anymore.