I burnt my ten year old diary.
For every year since middle school, I have maintained a diary. Although writing is a sort of release and hobby, it is personal as well. This means that I cannot have others flipping through them, neither is it feasible to take them wherever I go. Considering the amount of traveling I do, I was getting wary of carrying them around so one fine day I got on the roof top of my flat in South Delhi and burnt the diaries in 2008. It was a sad moment but one that had to be done with. Every page that gleamed bright in the yellow flames consumed my writings, word by word. Even then, over the years, I have always held on to a particular notebook which was an amalgamation of my thoughts during the highs and lows I have faced over a ten year period. I kept it with me because it was nice to read what I had been through and how I had dealt with it back then.
This morning as I was reading my words for the umpteenth time, I felt it was the right time to let go. There is an apt phrase which states that in order to make space for new memories, we need to let go of the old ones. By burning this particular diary, I am doing just that. I have a future to look forward to which by all means looks promising. Therefore, I bid thee goodbye.
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