Sometimes I try to be fine with the mysteries. I think it is beautiful to remain mysterious. All excitement about this universe would be broken if the answers to the mysteries were known. But some days, it nags me a lot. It is also frightening as well.
This question has nagged me for a long time. I ask, "Where do all the memories go?" Is there an infinite bag that stores them or are they just lost forever.
I can remember what I did today as I write this verse. But come tomorrow, some are in store but fractions of it is lost. I am losing bits of memory every day to somewhere I don't know.
Then we have those special moments of memory that we make, cherish, and try to keep with us. But we lose them unconsciously. It is stolen. Maybe some people with whom we share the memories can keep it for some time, but once they are gone, it is perished. Like it never mattered.
You don't know you lost it because you cannot remember it once it is gone. Can you? How unjustified is that.
If there is any forever paradise that we get to go after this life, then maybe all the memories are there waiting to be given back and you could relive every second of your previous life.
Or is there a secret keeper of memories?