Amidst the bustles of our own lives today, we often fail to realize that time indeed is fleeting very swiftly. And during these times passed, moments were slowly drifting away until they were gone and carried afar, leaving only the footprints of the good old past.
But did you ever realize that we could still go back to the moments we dream not to last?
I got three of them to date. The first one I have appeared yet in a black-and-white tone inside out with every page seeming to be like a cumulo-nimbus cloud, just plain and very simple. Four years after, I’ve come to receive a new one: more improved than the first. Now wrapped with a colorful, silky print cover (though the insides still appear in shades of gray), I already loved flipping over its pages containing a lot of vivid graphics and photos that would content to amuse one who sees it at least. But here comes the beast of them all. Lately, I have claimed this 3-kilogram, huge book which now comes in volumes and hardbound covers, far from the one I used to have then. Marveled by its eye catching cover embossed with colorful themes and designs, I could say that this may already reveal how the world turns into a fast-pacing planet, how times bring us to the zenith of our dreams, and how memories are safely kept and sealed even after ages.
The Yearbook. It may come either in a portfolio-type design or housed in a box like a collector’s item novel series. It may be as small as the almanac or burden you by its humungous size like a centuries-old dictionary. It may shine as the rainbows or just gleam as simple as a pearl but more than how it looks aesthetically, this little thing is worth a lifetime of your existence.
Funny how this simple stuff captures our inner hearts and turns us into somebody as schmaltzy as those we only see in television soaps and dramas.
Who could ever forget the ones who bullied you when you were a naughty kid? I bet you even tried to put some ‘X’ marks or evil horns to the Mojo Jojo’s of your class before. As you browse along, you would even stop at some point, glare into a photo and smile your heart out when you will see your first crush during your primary years as if you’re feeling back again that puppy-love-feeling you get before. You even sort out your play friends from the losers you tagged. Flipping on, by every pic you pass through, you also remember a word or a thing that reminds you of them like the one who first said “I like you”, the one who stole a kiss from you on the cheek, the one who gave you roses picked from the school’s backyard up to remembering those who were hailed as cheaters, eaters, nerds, KJ’s (killjoys), and a lot more. By scanning through the yearbook, we could always relive back the kid in us and remember how we once believed in ‘Ever Afters’ and ‘Neverlands’, in castles and wonderlands, in a life that is very fast and light where everything just pass by so smoothly. Yearbook served as the wishing wells of our miniature dreams like flying around the world and the moon, riding space shuttles and fun lands for a day, or just being stuck in a toy kingdom, all go while holding infinity in our very palms.
Unfolding the next chapter of our journey, it is the same yearbook as well that made each and every one of us see ourselves which we never knew existed.
Who could remember the first time he danced the girl he laid his eyes upon? Or who has ever obliviously left her glass slippers during the midnight ball while savoring the moment with her King of Hearts? You get to think a lot of memories again while you skim through every page of this yearbook.
Reminiscent, you journeyed back in time again and see yourself jamming with your buddies on one nook where you strum those strings and sing your dreams out together with the group. The bell rings for recess and you rush now to the cafeteria to grab a bite, stay then on the benches under the shades of the trees which have been your leaning refuge when you need somebody to listen to you. You started digging out what more can yourself do when you juggled your academics while being into sports try-outs, or glee clubs or into scholastic quiz bowls (whatta geek!). The quadrangle or the football grounds served as your asylum when you received an “F’, broke up with an ex or simply just had a fight with somebody. You break the rules, you fail, you once went astray, you stumble, you’re scolded, but then again remembering all these events, you remain happy as you see your old pals’ pics as if flashing back such mementos.
As you step further on higher grounds and enter the portals of the university, everything went to a whole new world. There was a drastic change, a paradigm shift so to speak. You never sailed the seas anymore, now you surf with the ocean waves instead.
Immersed into a more mature environment, you have learned to deal with things independently. Remember the times when library’s your favorite rendezvous? You learned to love spending time with it now which you seldom did before. By every word that comes out your mouth, by every step you’re gone, you are slowly becoming cautious. You started burning midnight candles as you drown yourself in pools of books, of theses, of researches. Did you remember those moments when you seemed to be on the verge of yielding? Hanging at the edge of the cliff? But you surpassed them all and never succumbed? All these were bits of the past which molded you to what you are now: a professional, a man/woman of valiance, of experience, of inspiration.
Inching my way to reading the epilogue and closing this book, I gradually felt the nostalgia again. The past has already been unraveled as if I went into the Neverland. With these kinds of emotion that rewinded my voyage to becoming the person I am today, I realized a lot of things: from frowns and laughters to foibles and triumphs to scorns and love, all these helped in baking this special cookie almost into perfection. Majestic, more than any tale foretold!
I never thought this simple little thing could touch my inner recesses. Memories indeed never go weary, never go into oblivion, as long as you have something that could strike a chord back to them. If only I could stay by every leaf of it, I would choose to. But hey, I just can’t. Time’s ephemeral and so does life.
Unearth back your stories too.
Just as what Coca-cola ad shouts out, open (Coke) your yearbook, open happiness.
And make your stories live and bring magic to you once more.
Credits to Laila for the photos. Thanks for the favor!