The Game Memory Plays...

Memry & My Mnd: Hw do I Rmeber the frgoten & ho I fogt the unfogetn

Zero sum game of my mind reaching out to a globule of my brain to brainpick the hidden brainwaves that have got lost amongst the stockpile of blabber and claptrap that not only is polluting the evirons in the neighbourhood of the soft matter beneath my hard skull but also are making my memory an unmemorable chimera is now down to its slog overs.

              

Just as I was seeking the lost information, a new plethora of bytes came knocking at the doors of the sentries of my nervous system. Already fuzzy and already overprocessed,the brain`s search engine returned results that would even put the erstwhile MSN to shame. That piece of information demanded by an extended agent is often harassed by the beaureaucracy that`s prevalent in the inner system gets house arrested & often is threatened by the goons of the inertia mafia.Flummoxed,flustered and deeply agitated, the mind puts the checks and balances in place to solve the murder mystery but ends up only getting hold of the good guys, letting the restrainers go free and puts the saviours under the shackles of mind cells Ala gauntamento.

          What I know of the last vow that I took upon? Has that promise been kept? Has that memory stayed in the forefront of my 6/6 vision? Or the moment was just for a moment and my memory just a shifting window that gives the vision of the incoming events and lets the already processed ones go by and rot in the marshes of my decaying mind?

            Right now I cant process whatever’s being said to me,that`s because the query isnt laden with constraints Aka "pin" that pinches the FIFO list of the information index & scourges the thing so solicited by the process. One thing though jumps out shock faced from the dark welled annuls of my ROM memory is that I can’t forget to forget that which is touted as being important.

                    

  The purging of the read emails from my inbox sends them to trash. As new emails crowd the inbox, this process is quintessential to maintain the ACIDity of my memory database. But how come the trash automatically disembowels? Why cant the memory stop behaving like a leaky cauldron & instead have a parallel arrangement to catch the overflowing  viscous fluid ? On the first evidence it allows the froth to be manipulated by too many cooks it seems.

                  

With the cloud computing now a revelation, I have begun to see a cloud clouding my brain too. A cloud of unwanted information, a cloud of unsolicited memories, a cloud of piercing, shrieking and cannibalising spectres of the past that haunt the very soul of other memories and scare them into obscurity. Maybe I need a Gmail account embedded in my memory to have the lost memories unfurled and laid bare to my sore eyes now puffy from the rolling they receive whenever a negative response they get from the brain whenever the Prof asks a question to me.

               

On second thoughts, I think I will ask Google…..They can do anything now ...maybe...just maybe I will remember what I initially wanted to write here someday ....Amen!!!       

Booming voice of the announcers blares over the imaginary microphone,"The brain in blue shorts, donning white gloves this side"... Cheers follow...hooting from the opposite camp..

"The memory in black shorts donning golden gloves that side"....Cheers follow...some catcalls from the audience...

           Since eternity, the match has been pushed to a no contest, stretched to countless rounds...a bloody affair..

with each player delting and pelting heavy blows to other and also receiving a body shot here and there. A upper left cut  here ...a jab in the ribs there ...a sliced forehand that just missed the eyebrows...a powerful punch to the jaw that seemed it took a splinter with it...a block that sent the shockwaves that hit the  perpetrator with double force..

        Each warrior iron clad….Each opponent bruised and battered...each wearing proudly glory cuts and bruises as if they are the war medals..But the truth is that they are struck in the arena…..They are tied to each other ,hinged to one another ..Otherwise both useless mercenaries.....