The Abandoned Diary
As every year, two weeks after the new year when dad arrived home he brought us a couple of diaries. When my sister was deep in thought on choosing one my mother spoke “You don’t use them anyway. Why are you so engrossed in picking one?”
I still remember the first diary which I ever used. It had a mahogany cover with the year 2005 imprinted in lemon. I hardly wrote it for a week and discontinued the writing practice. I don’t exactly recall the ink painted contents but I do know that I barely narrated chronologically the events of the day without any flavour. After that, I used to get myself a diary every year but was never really committed to filling all those pages.
Photo Courtesy: Magic Madzik
Diaries are used by many people for many purposes. My mother uses it for writing down the family budget every night. My father retains one with semi-soiled papers which has all his important contacts and a new one to keep track of his official work. But I have always believed that diaries are to serve as a record of one’s thoughts and accounts of his lifetime.
Though I never used it routinely as my mother pointed out, I did write my diary whenever I felt like – maybe I wrote 10 to 15 meaningful pages a year. I remember using the same diary for three complete years but never got passed the second month. Flipping through the pages of the rarely scribbled diary I can’t stop noticing how different I am than what I was years ago but in few aspects, I still remain the same person I was. I have repeated a few problems over and over again.
And the fact that it is rarely scribbled indicates of how our lives are. I could recall the words of the narrator in the movie 500 days of summer, “Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no memories between them”. Maybe it is true that our lives are plagued by the routine that we did not want to burden ourselves with one more task of filling a page when the fatigued eyelids are drooping like unlatched windows on a windy evening.
Photo Courtesy: Fredrik Rubensson
The abandoned diary is a manifestation of this sad fact. But it also brings into the context whether we begin to accept things as they are and we rarely take concrete measures to make our lives livelier. Or maybe it is the nature of odd events in life. Odd cannot be odd when it is not odd.
With my sister, after taking a good look at both of them she gave one with knitted pitch dark leather cover. It looks classy but as usual, the entries are sporadic and I don’t think it would change this year maybe never.
Photo Courtesy: (External Links)
(1)Magic Madzik
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