It was a day in making for many days now... Today, I tore off all my personal diaries. All 8 diaries. 20 years of writing. About a thousand pages. Everything.
In between, I looked at some pages. Somethings were always fresh in memory. Some faded thoughts reappeared. Some forgotten names were recalled. Almost everything made me a bit of emotional, a bit of nostalgic, a bit of sad, and a bit of irritated. There were friends, strangers, estranged friends, friendly strangers, teachers, students, loves, laughs, moments, fights, loves, kisses, hugs, tears, and everything that had been there in the past 20 years!
While tearing everything away, I kept some random pictures or thoughts in between. Like, in the struggling years, a page had only this written - "I am an Idea whose time has not come!". Another page had random thoughts written, like this one:
And I wrote not on pages and margins only but sometimes, even the diary covers had some messages. Like this:
And in between those pages, there were the stories of my Lucknow days, when life was shaping up, my IIMA days, when life was full of events and challenges, my longing for Lucknow and then, disenchantment with Lucknow, Indore and IIM Indore days, my travels to different places and for different purposes. There were the stories of all the love I got, all the love I missed, all the loves I kissed, and all the love that couldn't be. There were the lists of my happiest memories and the best moments of life and the best people in my life and the loveliest loves of my life and the superpowers I want and the places I wanted to visit and the milestones I wanted to cross....
In essence, like I wrote in this
blog post here about my autobiography, today - I destroyed all the notes for that story. Pretty soon, I am planning on deleting on a lot of other stories and stuff as well. Why - you ask? Because I am an idea, whose time never came. And never will. At the end, all that remains is this - a bag full of wasted life, forgotten memories, and ideas, whose time never came!!!
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