A Memory in My Pocket

Prose Poem

I found a memory folded in a paper. I read it and it hit me.
The memory was not meant to meet me. It was draped with words that were very loud. Terse and cold.
It said ‘I am leaving you…forever’ with the initials Rosie.K.
I wondered how the person for whom this memory was meant to be dealt with it.
Naively, I searched around for Rosie.K, but the wind made my eyes wet instead.
I read and re-read the memory as if it would reveal some more of it through magical words.
Why do memories always make us halt, lying to us that we can play with time, even reverse it?
I folded the memory again and kept it in my jacket’s pocket.
It tickles me whenever it feels like making me unfold it.
A Memory In My Pocket
Image by TanteTati from Pixabay

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We don’t hear the word fain often these days or do we? If we do, then I am pleased to know.

But if not then let us talk further. Fain means gladly, preferably, willing, ready, obliged or required. A dictionary will tell you better and it will also tell that this word is obsolete. There are many archaic words like fain which are out of fashion…what is new in it?

Fain to me is such a sweet word that I feel when it was asked to leave it (by its nature) said, ‘gladly’.

Why is it that some words stay and some don’t? What happened after the times of Kings and Queens with this pretty word that it left us?

I can’t say it left us as we can still use it but it has been forgotten. Yes, this can be one of the many plausible explanations; man is after all the most forgetful creature.

I would like to believe that fain never stopped being happy and willing and eager. And that is why it reached a state of gladness. Fain visited the Ultimate Fain.

All these beautiful archaic words are silent not because no one wants to hear them, but because they were heard by the One. And now they are in a sublime state.

Such is the destiny of one, anyone, who knows oneself and remains constant. One who doesn’t look for answers outside but inside. One who knows the true meaning of Karma.

This is what I feel. Who knows if all this makes sense or not? One who knows, knows a lot or knows a lot at least about others.

Anyways, fain would always be for me a wonderful word which gives my mind a feeling of its texture- silky soft and white.