There are about 8 billion people in the world. And there's roughly a 0.11 per cent chance of any given person having a "twin stranger." Put another way, there is only a one in 135 chance that a single pair of doppelgängers exists on our planet of m...
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God ever forbid that I forget something. Well except for my glasses, I can't remember for the love of my life where I keep them. But this isn't about glasses. This is about my memories.
Memories are like old photographs, fading at the edges but sometimes coming into sharp focus when you least expect it. I've always been an expert with memories, courtesy of my sharp mind. But lately, it feels like someone has been rifling through the pages of my mind, leaving behind a trail of confusion and forgetfulness.
I remember the nickname my brother used to call me. And yet, I am struggling to remember the exact timbre of his voice. It's a frustrating dance, this tango with memory, where the steps keep changing, and I can't seem to find my footing.
The funny thing about depression is that there are parts of your life that just completely vanish off your mind map. And now I have gaps in my memories which I struggle with. What do you mean I don't remember my teenage years?
My therapist says that memories are never lost. She believes that even when we feel like a memory has slipped away, it is still there, hidden in the depths of our minds. I find some comfort in her words, knowing that the things I've experienced are not truly gone.
I don't want to forget the voice of my brother. I don't want to forget how his eyes used to twinkle when he was talking about his favorite cars. I don't want to forget any memories related to Ishaan.
Now as I bid goodbye to my family and friends who had come to see me off at the airport for my flight to Bangalore, I heard a faint whisper in my mind, "Bonu.."
Nope, nothing has changed. I have not forgotten his given pet name for me, nor his voice though it's starting to fade away bit by bit. The only thing that has changed is there's no one to call me "Bonu" now.
I let the warm September breeze again hit my face before hugging my family and friends goodbye. Then I pushed my trolley towards the entrance and a gust of cold air enveloped me.
After the security check-in, I texted Maithili and Ronica. We were all supposed to meet at Bangalore airport and from there board our 20-hour flight to Chicago along with the rest of the students. It was going to be a long day for me.
"This is the final boarding call for all passengers traveling on 632A Indigo Kolkata to Bangalore. Please proceed to gate 16 immediately. Thank you."
I gathered my belongings and made my way towards the line in front of the gate. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, I collided with a stranger. My heart skipped a beat as I watched a small, old journal slip from his grasp and fall to the ground. The stranger quickly bent down to pick it up, but not before I caught a glimpse of the pages inside. I tried to look at his face but he was wearing a hoodie and a pair of shades. Celebrity much?
I looked at him as he sprinted off in another direction. He didn't even apologize to me. Rude.
On the flight, I took out my iPad and plugged in my AirPods. I have always been afraid of heights so watching movies always makes me feel at ease. I pressed the play button and relaxed in my seat, not knowing when I dozed off.
