The popular adage ‘Pics or it didn’t happen’ doesn’t quite resonate with me, and while this does not
mean that I’m against photos - on the contrary, I’m a registered photobomber. It’s just that of late, I’ve
realized that photos deprive us of a very fundamental human desire - desperation. And it is in this
desperation, that moments become immortal memories.
A lot of studies - I say that without citation - have
show that our mind distorts our perception to be more palatable with our understanding of it. And while,
these photos tend to immortalize those memories in their own way, they deprive our minds the opportunity to
recollect and distort. While the merits of such a distortion is debatable - for, some of us would like
our memories unscathed by demise of our minds. I tend to believe that it is in this desperation to recollect
memories that they transcend into something richer.
The hazy recollection refines the things worth remembering
and all other background noise is lost into nothingness. Don’t get me wrong, photographs are vital to cherish
these ephemeral times, but at times, I prefer being vulnerable to the atrocities that time may have on my
memory and trying to fight for the things that I cherish.
And maybe I’m wrong about all of this, but it’s a thought worth a minute.
