Anitha Padanattil :
‘Does my memory serve me right or is it backtracking yet again?’ Memory lapses, sudden blink-to-retrieve moments, embarrassing seconds when a name eludes you, flashes of incidents flooding you when least expected and not coming to the rescue when required – these, I gather are not restricted to a small group of people rather, it seems to be part of a growing concern among most acquaintances.
There was a time when I was affectionately called Ghajini and the numerous yellow reminders around me only served to highlight the fact. What was once laughingly brushed off as a so-called absent-minded persona, seems to have caught on and spread out into something quite similar to a viral outbreak.
When ‘youngsters’ in their twenties and thirties are complaining of a reduction in the rate of recall, how would the ‘more mature’ ones in their forties and fifties stand up to an even higher state of detriment? The next set of the elderly could possibly have escaped the dragnet of this scary phenomenon but they could fall prey to the corrosion, as well. Running taps, burning curries on the cooktop, lights, ceiling and exhaust fans running for hours together, forgetting the grocery list not to mention missing out on important events that once seemed to be the exclusive terrain of the male species is now creeping up on the womenfolk as well . The list can go on.
What could be the cause of this alarming deterioration? The answer is obvious. Going by today’s standards, short-term memory might soon turn into a fad and creatively working around the problem might prove to be a necessary evil.
‘I cannot let my gadgets fall into disrepair. Abandoning them would be like giving up on my conscience,’ would be the general rhetoric.
Could a teaspoon of ghee (clarified butter) or the crushed leaves of the Brahmi (also called the Waterhyssop or Bacopa) plant on an empty stomach provide a much-needed boost? There are some Yogasanas I know that may help stem the tide. I definitely do not want a microchip inside of me that works in place of the real one. My cells are my own responsibility.
(The writer is based in Dubai. Courtesy: Khaleej Time).
