I Remember.

 

 

I remember it all.
 Not since the day I was born.
 Not from the first instances of my being,
 but from the time I was very small;
 the time I was a mere dumpling.

I remember the first time I stood on two feet.
How many times I fell to get back up.
And the sweet chocolate on the grey carpeted floor,
which I absolutely adored to chew on and eat. 

I remember.

 I remember the first time I played under the sun.
 I gazed at the blue sea and sky with wonder and awe in each.
 As I sank into the warm soft sand, I pondered to myself,
 How could anyone forget their first ever trip to the beach?

I was three years old, running on four.
It was a simpler sentience back then.
Peace and harmony galore,
It was Hakuna Matata onto to no end.

 I remember.

 I remember the first time I plucked a guitar string
 and the brown myna bird on my window sill trying to sing.
 It was considered the most pleasant time of year;
 for it was the dawn of the equinox, it was spring.

It didn’t sound very melodious.
And was no symphony as such.
Just some random musical notes,
strummed into in an aimless bunch.

 I remember my first day at school;
 how cruel the anxiety that gripped me was.
 And how I stuttered and stammered like a fool,
 an introvert trying to make sense of all the ruckus.

With nearly nothing to say,
I snuck into my half of my shared desk;
a metallic lunchbox containing a cheese sandwich.
As I nibbled away and hummed the alphabet,
I knew the decision I made was the best.

I remember.

 I remember the first time I rode a bicycle,
 and how I grazed my knee.
 You can barely see the scar now
 but the pain I felt still lingers on in my persistent memory.

I remember my first swimming lesson
and the frigid water in which I nearly drowned.
I remember how I overcame my phobia
and how one month later,
‘Most Improved Diver’ was the title with which I was crowned.

I remember.

 I remember the first time I kissed a girl.
 You’d think it would start with just a peck,
 But our lips locked and tongues wrestled instantly,
 and soon she passionately caressed my neck.

Twenty minutes gone too soon.
With eyes wide shut, our hearts pounded.
How quickly the beautiful frozen frames in time would pass,
an unfathomable thought, which still leaves me astounded.

She complimented me on a certain french skill
and then proceeded to bid me adieu.
I never really saw her again,
but that was a moment I’d go on to remember;
for that juncture in time was a lapse so impromptu. 

I remember.

 I remember my first break up
 and also when I smoked my first cigarette.
 How often would I try to give up this new habit?
 Well, how often does a gambler place a bet?

I remember my first beer,
and the sparkling green bottle it came in.
As the golden malty bubbles drifted down my throat,
I remember how spritzy and jolly it made me feel.
An abridged addiction authorized itself that day,
the likes of which I had never felt nor foreseen. 

 I remember a time when games were played outside
 and not on electronic devices.
 When people spoke, laughed and looked up to one other,
 instead of looking down at phones; 
  updating their Instagram meals, tweets and statuses.

I remember.

 A photographic memory,
 I believe Eidetic’s the scientific term.
 Why do I still remember?
 That’s something I have yet to learn.

Recalling all these memoirs,
seems to be both a blessing and curse.
Two sides of the same everlasting coin;
much like the Ying and Yang of a dualistic universe. 

 In a world where right and wrong is an opinion
and pizza arrives before an ambulance.
I wish my final memoirs to be of humanity remembering itself,
with all it’s light, love and hope;
especially in this era of consumerism and decadence. 

I hope to remember.

A free world where human beings aren’t classified by class.
Where religion unites more than it divides.
A world where the thoughts, ideals and morals of individuals
aren’t dictated and shaped by those of society.
A world where technology integrates not separates. 
A world where everyone can enjoy steak and lobster;
vintage vines and access to fresh organic fruits,vegetables and clean water.
A world where corporations don’t influence the politics of governments
and don’t patent natural resources meant for all. 

I hope to remember the memoir in which the inhabitants of this planet someday remember:

That nationalistic borders aren’t visible from space and that this place is home,
the only one we have for now at-least.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That it belongs to every human, every animal, plant and organism just as much.
Not to just a narcissistic and greedy few. 

This much, I hope to remember  – Lycanlover