Fireflies taught me kindness. Memories are kind of similar. It is like a jar of kindness. Fireflies are memories.
Our need to cling on to memories of the night, memories of childhood, memories of love, perhaps give me urge to hold the firefly gently between two palms of my hand as if to witness the rhythm, the oscillation between my darkness and joy in the belly of the firefly. He came through window of my study and landed straight into my hands after going around few times over the tiny oil lamp. From the gap in between my fingers, I watch him glow. He doesn’t move much, his tiny feet gives me a tingling sensation. It’s now embedded in my heart. It’s a feeling of trust. I open my palms, he leaps into the air. He then sits on the windowsill as if to say now that I’ve given you memories, your debt is up by one and you would repay each one you add. As I watch him leave, he parts me with the wisdom of letting go of the one that you hold dear to, he taught me to appreciate their beauty, their soul and enjoy the moments of togetherness till it lasts. Thereafter, all that is left with me is that tingling sensation. It is a sensation of joy. It is sensation of kindness. It is a sensation of love.
Do fireflies hold our collective memory?