Today, the hair lying on the left side of the toilet seat had moved a centimeter towards right. It stayed there. It survived the massive flow of water throughout the day. He thought it was happy.
He was sleepy; his eyes were still a bloodshot red. He knew he was awake.
Because, he knew that the little brown piece of dirt still lay where it had lain 2 days ago. Because he knew that the hand wash gel had gone down by 47mm (approx). His mind was working. He knew he was awake.
The flush tank was getting refilled, the running water from the washbasin tap made the naphthalene ball lying in it; oscillate in a similar, oft-repeated fashion. His eyes captured every moment of the movement. The atmosphere sounds also managed to escape from the windowpanes.
He came out of the toilet, wiping his face with a towel and reached for his mobile phone. He knew he had a text message. He had heard the soft beep of the mobile phone when he was in the toilet.
He read the text. It was a forward from someone who was trying to find humor in nothing.
He wanted to erase all the recordings from his brain. Instead, the new ones kept occupying his mind. Every time he went to a different room, his brain automatically started associating it with the silly details that it had already recorded.
The shape of the cobweb in the left corner of the wall in the hall, the change in the position of the furniture, the way the charger wire was folded at a particular place, the shadows, the way the newspapers were folded… everything. It all recorded in his virtual memory. No reason why.
He had never thought these silly things could bother him, ever. Till one-day, his brain required an external hard disk, to store the practical memory.
He knew practical memory was practically impossible to live with.
Well then that’s him. The man with practical memory. Keep reading.
