The Notebook


I WAS rummaging through my old things the other night, and I found an old notebook which I used in my high school days to scribble my eccentric and melancholic ideas that time and unfortunately, it brought back memories.

That old notebook was precious to me at that time, and I brought it everywhere I go, as I always had some quotations, short stories and poems to write even if when I’m just fooling around in school those days.

It had some quotations from my old classmates, friends who really make me laugh, my own quotations about depression and death, and some other things that would be considered as corny these days.

It was so precious to me that I decided to keep it, but it never occurred to me that keeping it would mean I’ll be taking it for granted in the days to come — and that was the greatest mistake that I made.

That notebook had all my ideas, aspirations, and thoughts about life (which was dominated by death, because I was a little curious about it that time), poems of life, love and lost love, and basically my everyday thoughts about everything.

All the pages of that notebook was never wasted, in fact, I had some quotes that I never thought I will be using right now, and come to think of it, I used them ever so often that I thought other people had come up with that quote.

But it really brought a nostalgic feeling in me, as I was browsing through the pages of that notebook, and as I held it in my hand, it gave me a quivering sensation, and flashed back so many memories, of the good and bad.

I was bullied in my high school days, because of my height (I was only 4-11 at that time, that’s why even teachers make fun of me), and because I wanted to be always alone. I had so many ideas in mind back then, but I was too afraid that people might laugh or even think I’m weird, that’s why I always keep things to myself.

But that gave me the fuel to write and read more often, as I don’t have many friends back then. And that’s where that notebook came, and we’re an instant hit.

It’s not that I made that notebook my diary, but it held all my thoughts, my ideas about death, and so on. It was the time when I learned that people would say great things about you when they learn that you’re going to die, but can’t even look at you or say good things when they know that you’re still a long way to go. Maybe that’s how people are. They tend to tell you everything when there’s no time left, but won’t say a single word if they know that time is on their side.

So whenever you get a chance to express how you feel, you should say it out loud. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies when you deal with life. You will have to remember that the only thing that’s permanent is change.

And so while I sit here, I will keep going on.