The Attic In Your Inbox

Have you ever wondered what kind of a person you were ten-fifteen years ago? How you’ve evolved over the years? I’m sure you have. Yesterday was a sort of a blast from the past for me. I managed to access my very first email inbox on Yahoo! Mail – something that I had created way back in 1999. And when I went through some of the mails I’d written and exchanged with old friends (some of whom are no longer in touch) it made me feel stupid, excited and happy. Stupid because of the ridiculous nature of my writing, completely ignoring the basic rules of grammar, spelling, punctuation and propriety.

Yahoo Mail
Part of an email conversation I’d had with a friend, on whom I had a tiny, little crush πŸ™‚

But, on the other hand, I was happy and excited to access my old inbox because it proved to be a veritable attic of forgotten treasures. I found a few old love letters that I’d written to my very first girlfriend. I found old photos of classmates, girlfriends, forgotten friends, forgotten moments and events that have had an impact on who I am today. I spent a lot of time digging through this inbox, trying to remember exactly what the conversations were about, who the people were, what my state of mind was, and there was no satiating my nostalgic indulgence.

I came across an email fight I had with a friend of mine over something that seems so trivial now but was perhaps the straw that broke our friendship back then. I came across old emails where I was making plans with a few close friends to meet up a certain pub for a few beers. Oh, those were weird times.Β I sent some of these photos to a friend of mine with whom I’m not in touch very much, hoping to rekindle some contact. I told him how weird we were back then. He thanked me for the trip down memory lane and responded by saying, “I think we’re still weird, but we’ve managed to embrace that reality.”

Reunion
Photograph of a class reunion that I found in my Yahoo! Attic

I think we should all stop running for a few seconds and look back on the path we’ve taken to get where we are. It’s just astounding how quickly time flies and we hardly recognize ourselves from back when we were younger. I read these old emails now and I am filled with an immeasurable curiosity to know more about myself – more precisely, to know what people thought of me back then. I look at my old photographs and I can hardly believe that I looked like that, wrote that way, spoke that way, used those phrases, and yet managed to have a normal life and turn out the way I did.

Last night, Mansi and I were at my parents’ house for dinner. One thing led to another and pretty soon my Mum decided that my wife need to see my kiddie photographs. So, out came the huge albums and the report cards from my kindergarten and school days. I looked at my photographs as a kid – the moments when I was with cousins, aunts, forgotten relatives, and I am a bit sad that I don’t remember much of it. These few memories that have been frozen in time are all that remain of my past. I wish I could remember it.

Go check out your very first email inbox and you’ll be thankful for the blast from the past. πŸ™‚

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N O S T A L G I A

nostalgia

Almost exactly a year ago, on the 16th of March 2008, this blog was born. It started off as an experiment in open, creative writing, and soon became quite well-read. Celebrating the birthday of this blog can be quite a task, and would involve the following:

  1. Thanking all the initial readers of MirrorCracked, without whom, it wouldn’t have been possible to come this far.
  2. Acknowledge all the major critics I’ve had on MirrorCracked.
  3. Write flowing eulogies to all you beautiful people on my blogroll.
  4. Create a set of awards to those bloggers who are close to my heart.
  5. Be a clichΓ© and display the blog’s overwhelming statistics that have accumulated over the past year.
  6. List out and apologize to all the assholes that I’ve slandered on this blog.
  7. Create the new ‘Testimonials” page, to display all the testimonials I’ve received for the blog so far.
  8. Figure out more things to do, because I’m sure this list isn’t complete.

It’s quite a nostalgic week ahead. I’m humbled. I guess I don’t really have many words to describe it.

Image Courtesy: Lukechueh.com

Tiny Steps

I’ve been meaning to write this post for quite some time now, but never really got the chance. Now, I have the time, the motivation and the inclination to actually sit and write it down.

It’s a Friday afternoon and a lazy one at office. Not much of activity in the PR world on a weekend, and most of the work is to be pushed to the next week. So, I sit back in my plush chair, look up at the air-conditioned ceiling and think back at how to start this post.

This is actually an ode, a tribute to a friend of mine who’s been more than just a friend and never more. I call her Chucks, affectionately naming her after the haunted doll in a series of horror movies called Child’s Play. Chuckie’s in Sydney now, and has been for the past year and a half, studying to become a researcher in cancer genetics. Yeah, I know, she’s got big goals.

Actually, this is not an ode to Chucks, but rather a message of hope and strength that she desperately needs right now. She’s never been one to lose hope and direction in life, but quite recently, she shocked me when she said that she had lost them both. A self-deprecating journey can be disastrous and I know this first hand, when a lot of things didn’t fall in place for me at one point of time, and I fell into so deep a hole that it took me almost a year to recover. Chucks played a vital role in my recovery, and ever since, I’ve looked upon her as more of a mentor than a very good friend. it’s now been five years to the day since I’ve known her. April 18, 2002. πŸ™‚

When a mentor loses confidence, then it’s up to the disciple to take over the mantle and guide the mentor out of the looming abyss. Things happen in life that can’t be avoided. We all go through a phase when we start questioning our judgments and our decisions, and whenever possible, we must be strong enough to back ourselves up. Realizing that we are of sound mind and sound body can help a lot.

Have faith, Chucks. Never lose faith. Believe in yourself and you’ll do amazing things. I am sure of that. I know you and I know your abilities and I’m sure somewhere deep down, you do too. Hope and faith are all the ammunition you’ve got to fight depression and bad tides. I urge you to use it.

Nostalgia can go a long way in your recovery. Remember how you cured me, Chucks. Remember the medicines you gave me – nostalgia, hope and faith. I hope you remember, because if you don’t, then I’d have to come all the way to Sydney now. πŸ˜€

I wish you all the very best in your life, Chucks. You’ve got a long and fruitful life ahead of you, and please don’t lose track of your original goals and plans. I’m here for you; we’re all here for you, Chucks. We want you to succeed and I want you to fulfill your promises you made me before you left.

Proceed in tiny steps, Chucks.

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Dear Readers: I apologize if this blog wasn’t really the ideal forum for posting this message to Chucks, but I had to do it. After what she’s done for me, I feel this is the least I could do. I would be grateful if you could leave behind your wishes and good will for my dear Chucks, and hope that she can get over her troubles and depressions and return home victorious! Thanks! I owe you all! πŸ™‚

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