Why do I click...

Why do I click..

Because I have a photographic memory. O no, not that whatever goes doesn’t come out ever , but because partially my memory is made up of the pictures I have seen. I see them so often ,in the hope of giving shape to what people call as memories.

There are things like the first kiss, the first standing ovation, the first speech, the first award, the first compliment ,the last goodbye, the last exam , the last ride with him/her.

Things , which are special, by the popular public opinion. Many of my friends get jitters on restating them , they say its because that particular moment is imprinted hard on their mind, but I v always wondered aint they reliving the popular opinion associated with it.

I mean , you think about a compliment, and a smile comes up, or think about eve teasing , may be, its rage then. Well, whatever, my point is, I do have a memory of all of them , not as moments, but as pictures.

I, many a times donot recall the jubilation, the sadness , the excitement or the gloom inherent in a situation I have been a part of. Yeah, Event I may remember though.Is that called living in the moment!! Literally I do!

Iv miserably failed on many occasions, when people say iv choosen a wrong direction for my career ,or may be This was just not meant to be , try sumthing different. Like everybody, I feel bad, My heart burns , there is an arrow piercing hard. But even that piercing is for the moment.I forget and I am into my world again.

My flame, (Im blushing at this moment) how so ever apart he is, is intact In my heart. Literally and figuratively. Figuratively, well you could have guessed, but literally because of the pictures I have of him. The time Iv spent with him is intact as well, because I made sure, a lot of the moments , I live them repeatedly so that they ensure their place right deep inside.Just a quick thought, the concept of Facebook’s display picture aint, that the same. When ever you see anyone’s DP, it a quick recall of the emotion associated with him. Great, I ain’t alone. Anyways, like with everything I don’t remember how it feels on seeing his picture every time, but every time on seeing his picture I smile , I experience it. So it’s the smile I can recall. And that’s what I do with situations now, almost all.

Like the other day, I got my first paycheck and the sheer bliss it caries along, one can imagine. And now , only after a few days , I can’t get jitters of that situation , I got then. But yeah, I have seen myself through my eyes, smiling like a clown and that was when I clicked myself. And that picture is inside of me. And the similar thing with my parents , relatives, I clicked that moment so that it s saved in. and I try and relive each moment again n again, so that it doesn’t wash out. People say, if something is meant to be, it stays. Hell with what they say, because I have made things stay. Good or bad. The pictures I have of them , clicked by my mind simply rejects to get faded.

And that is the reason everything hear about death, It’s my grandpa who pops up. I donot remember a lot of things I did with him, but have made my memory of all everybody says and the pictures my mind has clicked of the moments with him. I refuse to let the picture of his last ritual fade away, when I was sitting holding his hand , foolish people called him dead, but the coldness ( which I cannot recall as of now) still left a warmth.

Looking at another dimension of it, I disagree with a lot of people on the concept of beauty, on the perception of beauty , I would say. Photographs help me capture them my way, and in a way, reinforces my idea of it. And if I generalize , It somehow helps me justify my symbols of life this way.

Pictures help me read Life.

Pictures let me live the romance of life

Pictures help me deal with the sacrifices and the gloom

Pictures, for me, are speaking , living, beings in themselves,

Telling a tale, Every time.