That forty’s syndrome
So what if fifty is the new forty? The fact is forty or fifty, memory starts to fade faster than light as you approach forty. At least that’s the case with me.
It is all happening and in ways which are most embarrassing. The other day I met a lady, whose face was so familiar but sadly I couldn’t put a name to that face. If was I was squirmish about it, I showed no signs. Cool. The other lady was a sporty kind, who slapped my back and called me sweety. It was only when we said bye and stood awkwardly for a moment did we realise that we both were in the same boat. We were neighbours some ten years back and now had no clue of each others names. We exchanged numbers and more importantly names. We are in touch ever since. Exchanging notes about fading memory, back pain, feet pain and going for a trip to Bhutan.
Gone are the days when I used to scribble down only the phone numbers in my notepad. The numbers in itself were a reminders in a vague way of the names. But I stopped that habit when I found myself calling the numbers that are jotted down and asking, er, um, er, who they were. If that was bad, consider this. They were all my friends. Fortunately, in the same wagon. Misplaced keys, reading glasses, cell phones why, even misplaced cars are our common denominators.
Then I met an elderly man, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. This man didn’t know how to comb his hair and wasn’t aware that he had a mouth. It was plain sad. Another friend (guess it was the same who was my neighbour some ten years ago) who heard me narrating the story of the old man, sounded off a new alarm. “Maybe, we are in the same boat too.”
A series of tests that was done in the wake ruled out any near possibilities of Alzheimer’s. The doctor who examined gave me a simple tip to remember names and reduce memory-loss.
“Before you go to sleep, try and recapitulate names that you have come across that day.”
So, last night, I slept at three O clock in the morning trying to rake in the name of a lady who I saw at the airport. The day before that I gave up at about half past twelve when I tried to recap the name of Katie Holmes husband who is also Suri’s dad. I got up, googled and got Tom Cruise’s name. That’s how it is going – I get the names of all who are associated with the name that I really want to dig out from my failing memory. Selective memory?
If you ask me, sad memory!