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Your best memories may not come from the photographs in your phone, but from the objects that created moments.

Everywhere I turn, I am reminded
Of times that were great
And even ones that were good
Why, I’ll even take the ones that were better
than now

And it’s not just at home
But on the streets
As I walk past stores
And restaurants
And tea shops

Sometimes I pause
And think for a bit
I try to relive
I try to recall
Memory, and muscle memory

Those times that we chatted
Even something irrelevant
Those times that we hugged
And maybe when we kissed
Or held hands

I have to be honest
That it’s a struggle
Thoughts are so powerful
And they sometimes
Override memory

That’s the thing
Memory fades, quite quickly too
I haven’t forgotten the feeling
But I have forgotten the feel
Yeah, there is a difference

What helps then are reminders

Pictures, as faded as they may be
And keepsakes, no, not ones bought
But a tissue that we wrote on
Or a coaster stained with booze

A shell that recorded
More than the sound of the sea
A bill from a bus ride
A goofy smiley scribbled
A codeword we created

Anything, something
To keep going
Hoping, feeling, believing,


Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you too have a poem you’d like to submit, do mail us at


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