The Memory Game

by RICSHA

The sandman came and sang a song

Of plenty things — good and bad,

The drunken crowd sang along

And thought of things they could have had.

All they got were dark grey clouds

Past lives they do ignore

But the great bell rang — clear and loud

And the seer saw what lay before.

Moving, floating, moving, floating.

As I kept moving through the pleasant darkness, a beam of white light pulled me towards it with a force that I could only relate with gravity. And that is when it happened — a sudden appearance of colours from complete darkness moving at an incredible speed. Before I could take in all this, humongous structures erupted around me. They filled in all the dark spaces and surrounded me with the most beautiful artwork I have ever seen. The walls, the floors and the ceiling were laden with an extremely elaborate design — they seemed to resemble a million objects from a distant past. It felt like I was looking through a kaleidoscope.I could see all the colours of the rainbow breaking open from the beam of white light that still had its steady pull on me.They came and settled down in unison- as if making a carpet for me as I go through. The shapes of the design moved in a rhythmic manner — as if in waves. Whoever laid this carpet needs a good pat on the back.

Wait! This must be some sort of a joke — who brought me to this show? I shall stand back and take a deep breath!

Breath? Breathe! Fuck! I can’t breathe. This is terrible I need help, someone! Please help me I can’t breathe! Is there anyone here?

God, for how long have I been holding my breath? What is this place and how did I come here?

I have to get back! Think! Think, what made you come here! Remember! Slow down and think hard.

I remember! I remember!

I remember the first time I saw Hippo Campus — she was not even out of her mother’s womb when she tried to pry her eyes open to get a good look at her new home. I remember the first time she felt sadness — just minutes into this new world — with a tinge of nostalgia of memories that were soon going to fade away like a morning dream.

Hippo was born into poverty — her parents were struggling to keep themselves from starving and a new baby girl would get them a good price in newly legal baby market. The times were tough — the world was rough.

Read what happens to Hippo:

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