The memory is still ablaze
Of delicate papyrus etched
With indelible poetry;
Pages glowing in a luminous
Chemistry of the first gaze
A medley of words whisper,
Buzzing neon promises
That flutter like fireflies
In a momentary daze
Until they are all gone!
A sudden flash of light
Like an iridescent memory
Clinking against a bone china cup
A crack, a chip, blunting the edge;
Tenderly packed away in tissue
An evening still trapped in time
When a steamy wisp touched a lip
Fingers took in the mild warmth
Of tea as brown as the rugged lines
Of hands, savoring a moment of rest
They say sights make lasting memories and a touch imprints forever. However, it was the smells that lie splattered across her memory-scape. This story traces an olfactory journey of a lifetime as she put pieces together, wondering what lies next.
1980 – It is the smell of soap – an expensive luxury bar of white soap. The silhouette of a man with that soapy fragrance is still vivid. She was barely 3-years old. She can recognize that smell anywhere but does not come across it often. She cannot remember who he was, yet the distinct memory captures her.
She frets that she needs to dig deeper into the recesses and find out why the fragrance of that soap and the man are so alive in her mind even after 40 years. There are no answers; she does not even know whether that time was good or bad; whether that memory points to any event in her life. The lack of an answer makes her uncomfortable as they remind her of an unknown man and his soapy odor from when she was barely a toddler.
Continue reading “Memoryscape”
Blue Pen Strokes 