I had a scrapbook made out of a discarded diary, which had a zipper bag that came along with it, during my school days. It held a collection of quotes, poems, favorite songs, beautiful sceneries, photos of my favorite bollywood actors/actresses and even newspaper cutouts of any interesting news that caught my eye. I remember keeping in it feathers of birds, lovely stamps, matchbox covers, chocolate covers and other baubles. Dried flowers and leaves too found a safe haven inside my scrapbook.
There was no order and no index as to what was inside the book. Therefore, every time I opened it, which would be once in every few weeks to add a new treasure, my own collection would pleasantly surprise and cheer me up. After a while, the bug of poetry bit me and I started to add my own poems to my collection. I would doodle on pieces of paper and keep it inside for safekeeping. It was literally my very own treasure house of memories.
Last summer when I visited home, I found it again, safely tucked inside the locker of my cupboard, beneath a few old clothes. I spent hours going through the contents and some items brought tears into my eyes. Some were reminiscent of carefree and happy days while some others reminded me of the much confusion that a young schoolgirl might have gone through. Some reminded me of old friends, crushes and hobbies. Notes written in longhand in some pages, reminded me of my ambitions, my ideals. The dried flowers reminded me of the gardens where they had originated from. The hollering owners of the gardens from where I had stolen them were now long gone, but the dried flowers had survived the ravages of time.
Inside the pouch was also an autograph book, which had the messages from my school mates scribbled in haste on the last working day of school. Many of them are still my friends but some who were close to me then are no longer a part of my world now. Time had brandished its sword and cut the cord of connection between them and me.
These days, I no longer keep a scrapbook for memories. I prefer to relish the present moments and make them memorable by taking photos that I safely store into electronic storage devices. I keep multiple copies. And when I am bored, I go through my memory collection and relive those fine moments which had been captured and frozen in time.
My blog too have become my online scrapbook where I keep on adding pieces of my creativity and vignettes from the present or a forgotten past.
This post is a part of Indispire on Indiblogger.