The Pensieve

Sometimes while lying on my bed, I look outside the window and stare into the infinite blue canvas. I never know when it ceases to be a blank canvas and transforms into a Pensieve, filled with memories appearing like motion pictures in high definition.

The clouds dissolve to form faces, and the rustling of leaves in the background changes to meaningful words which if had been spoken, could have changed the course of life. The incidents associated with the most extreme emotions, buried for years, come alive again. No matter how they make you feel now, it is definitely exhilarating to analyze the situation and others’ expression at that time, as a third person.

But sometimes while making sense of something that probably has no meaning, might not be even true, my gaze stops at that person who stands there, unaware of being watched so closely, having no idea how this moment will change his life. Yes, that ‘me’. The more I see into his eyes, more determined they look to keep those memories safe inside them, forever. And at this moment a scary thought engulfs my mind. ‘No one knows any of us’. No matter how much extrovert you are, how much public attention you get, there is a huge part of you visible only to you. Sometimes its so ugly that we try to ignore it and convince ourselves that it doesn’t exist. Other times, it is too beautiful to be fathomed by others. But there is always a second face that we all have, visible only to us in the pensieve. And that’s why I love gazing at the bright sky, removing my eyes from it only when the water coming from them starts tickling my cheeks and the universe for this disclosed face gets the spotlight again.