If you are a Bollywood fan, take a big iron rod and hit your head.
Your memories might be erased.
If you were a student who excelled in all things scientific,
Try recalling the percentage of hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen in air.
These memories always get erased.
If you’re a person like me who meets a lot people every day,
And can remember their faces, their hobbies, but their names?
The memories get erased.
Memories;
Memories are like the five-year-old me,
Who did a lot of things on her own, but she was not to be forced.
Memories;
Memories are like the five-year-old me,
Who refused to eat what she was given but craved what was forbidden.
They say the brain is a house with a limited space,
But who’s a permanent resident and who’s a paying guest?
You can only update the guestbook when somebody checks in,
But the name of a guest, by your choice, can’t be erased.
We make memories as we live,
But we don’t know how long the memories live.
Yes, you’ve burned the letters; she has flushed your photo,
But, but, but, the innocent heart is still attempting a veto.
So dear ‘that particular memory’, you won’t be erased?
“I will be, but only when I will get replaced.”
