The Time Turner Of My Life: My Autograph Books

Ever since I was fifteen, I carried on my mother's 1980s tradition to keep autograph books. 

During each of my milestone periods, I brought pretty autograph books and made my peers write, before all of us moved on in our lives. On those pages, I gave them the freedom to write whatever they wanted, anything at all. 

Just not nasty swear words or bakwaas, though. I tried to keep it PG-13 for my future children so that they realized how epic their perennially-young-looking mother was in her heyday. 

Surprisingly, apart from the initial grumbling, a lot of them did write. In a matter of the few minutes I'd given them, they vividly described our shared memories, expressed what they felt and gave me real strong advice.

Though it may seem simple, but writing in autograph books is actually so powerful. 

One minute, the page is completely blank. The next minute, the page is embedded with so many things - random memories, critical observations and surprising things you'd never really thought about, before. 

It isn't a page in a book anymore. It's become a Time Turner, only a lot more effortless. 

For a long while, my 'Time Turners' were tucked inside my bookshelf. Apart from my grandmother's occasional grumbling of, "Why do you need these books and diaries?", I hadn't bothered to look at them. 

However, last week, for some strange reason, I felt compelled to open them. 

Was it because of the melancholia I felt, as my entire country was locked down? Or was it because I felt that I wasn't in touch with my old moofat, aggressively go-getter spirit lately? 

I don't know. 

But whatever it was, leafing through those pages actually was an eyeopening experience.

REDISCOVERING MY INSECURITIES 

Reading those autograph books made me rediscover this: 

I forgot the fact that when I was in my early-mid teens, I was quite insecure. 

I criticized myself harshly over the tiniest of things to the point that I would feel utterly choked up before I said something, as if there was a block of ice that refused to melt jammed in my throat. If I accidentally did something (which was even borderline silly), I'd go "I'm so sorry!" Apart from that, I also suffered from a deep impostor syndrome. 

Though after my college and my fellowship, my impostor syndrome did die down and I became the brutally honest person that I am today, I still apologize too much, a little too unnecessarily. 

I don't know why I do that, though. It's almost like an involuntary reflex which I need to kick. 

For this, there's a small piece of advice that I think I'd better start using: 

"Say 'sorry' a fewer times"

This was written by one of my friends at the fellowship, who is a real gem of a person. And I think I should take this advice seriously now.

And it's not just me. If you're a serial apologist too, take a pledge. Don't apologize unless it's serious.

REMEMBERING SURPRISING MEMORIES

When I think of my milestone moments - tenth grade, my degree, my  fellowship and my trip to Germany - I only think of highlights - my board exams, my extracurriculars, the times I spent with my best friends and the like. 

As I went through my autograph books, I realized I was much more than the typecast 'weirdo nerd' that some dweebs have eloquently call me.  

I was also the girl who'd experiment with her hairstyle religiously in school. I was the girl who'd turn to the guy sitting behind her during exams and tell him random facts about all things sundry after the exams ended. I was the girl who'd never leave a book and blurt random things aloud. 

More than that, the bond that I shared with all the people who wrote in my book went way beyond these 'milestone' moments.

It lay in volunteering for the same college fest and not getting the T-shirts from the diabolical HoD. It lay in attending random quizzes and going up till the last round. It lay in chattering nonstop on a local train ride. It lay chatting about how poetry was not dead and a certain someone was being stupid. It lay in bunking classes, staying up late in the night, chattering. It also lay in conversing in toota-foota Malayalam with friends like me, who had been raised outside of Kerala too. 

It lay in so many tiny pieces that had roared back alive in my memory

With this, I remembered that my life wasn't just about pushing myself to get a stable career with a solid education. It was also about this vibrant mosaic of little incidents and moments which connected me so deeply with so many fascinating people. 

RECOGNIZING PEOPLE'S VALUE IN MY LIFE
(And mine in theirs)

There was one strange thing I noticed about my autograph books, though. 

The amount of time I'd spent with someone was no where correlated to the kind of stuff they wrote. 

My best friends didn't write a lot in my books. But I am okay with that because intuitively, I know that our bond goes beyond what's written on those pages. I know that they will be there at my wedding, spoil my kids and just be there, even a gazillion years later, when we've died after turning 120 and are ghosts haunting the world. 

Surprisingly, there were some people, who I didn't interact with much, express their memories and value for me as a person so eloquently. If not in pages, they expressed a lot of deep thoughts, insights and golden advises which amazed me. I felt truly grateful that they were thoughtful enough to notice. 

On the other hand, there were also some people who I thought meant an awful lot to me who ended up writing that this exercise was a 'call for validation' or a very Caveman-like 'YO' with their signatures next to them. 

Re-reading made me realize how after a while, you understand how much you are grateful for some people and how much some people couldn't care less if you exist. 

Me? I choose to care about the people who do care about me and who I care about. The times are gone when I held out an olive branch for some people and got mercilessly poked instead. 

***

For me, keeping autograph books wasn't about getting an ego boost, like some people like to criticize. For me, telling people to write our shared memories and their wisdom was a way to preserve the past in its most verbose and recent form.

What was all the more incredible was the choice of words they used at the time of writing it. I can use those words to finally reflect how our relationship had turned out in the end and how no matter the good or bad, these people were incredibly important to me in my life's stages. 

For all their memories and their relationship with me, I'm eternally grateful. 

Stay safe, dear reader. 

Much love,

Archie <3