This is the official blog of Winna Efendi, author of several bestselling Indonesian novels.

Sabtu, 06 Agustus 2011

On memories

I haven't been writing much lately. Not my blog, not fiction, just review after review.. and many not done properly. But tonight I feel like writing something, at first about music, but turns out I want to write more about memories.

I remember back in high school, my group of friends loved listening to a radio station.. this program every Monday called Getar Cinta, hosted by Sarah Sechan. We loved sending questions and listening to the horoscopes, the love problems, like they could be solved as easily as math equations. I even got my question read on air, under the sender's name Chloe. I don't know what exactly got me thinking about it.. as the memory hasn't resurfaced for years. It was a decade ago and now I'm off doing my own stuffs, growing up seems like such a long time ago.

And then fresher memories come knocking at my door. I remember the warmth of our small house. I miss that place, the efficiency and the ease of coming home.. the smell of food easily reaching my doorstep, and the chatters easily heard. I miss the comfort of a small home, my tiny square room, the white bed sheets and the window overlooking the sea. I miss everything about it, the privileges I can't have in this place we call a house.

But it's always easier to appreciate, and less to complain. Everything always changes, gradually or not. Therefore here I am, sitting and typing as words pour out, and after taking a moment to miss out on the things I no longer have, I will resume my life as I always do.

These little memories might fade over time. But I like to think that they sometimes hide. They hide, until one day it comes back to us, slivers of the past, and make us remember of the good times, the bad times, and the little things that make us who we are today.

Memories are just memories. They can drag us down, they don't lurch us forward. But I like the fact that I can always look back and see what was there, what had always been there. Memories are bittersweet. Memories are beautiful. Move on, but always remember them.

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