A few years ago when I visited Belathur, I was in for a big surprise. The village was no longer where it was when I lived there! Yes, it moved a mile up north. This brought another setback to my attempt to bring closure to my constant childhood memories. The place where I lived as a child no longer existed and was consumed by the relocated Belathur.
I had said earlier that my uncle's restuarant was along the bus road and the actual villae of Belathur was a mile south of us. There was a river (Kabini) a little south of the village. A couple decades ago, the Government of Karnataka decided to build a dam to Kabini many miles downstream, but that project was expected to submerge all of Belathur only leaving a mile north overground. So, the Government also decided to relocate the village. A few establishments that lined up the bus road were demolished and the property used for the village relocation.
I was heartbroken, I wanted to see my restuarant, the little footpath that I used to walk to the school, a tree that I sat under and slept for solace. This time, no resturant, no tree. Only the footpath existed but it took me to waters of the Kabini reservoir instead of the village. How much I wanted to see my villae and the school, etc.
Most people I met in Belathur weren't too bothered by the changes, after all it had happened many decades ago and for most people it had happened before they were born or could remember. The people who remembered had adjusted to the changes and had forgotten aout it. Since I didn't know these happenings but retained my memories in tact, it was hard for me to suddenly accept the changes.
As I walked along the footpath, you should imagine my fervent attempt to fnd the sagade tree of my memory. A few youngsters who accompanied me couldn't even know what the Sagade tree is.
Memories, memories...
I had said earlier that my uncle's restuarant was along the bus road and the actual villae of Belathur was a mile south of us. There was a river (Kabini) a little south of the village. A couple decades ago, the Government of Karnataka decided to build a dam to Kabini many miles downstream, but that project was expected to submerge all of Belathur only leaving a mile north overground. So, the Government also decided to relocate the village. A few establishments that lined up the bus road were demolished and the property used for the village relocation.
I was heartbroken, I wanted to see my restuarant, the little footpath that I used to walk to the school, a tree that I sat under and slept for solace. This time, no resturant, no tree. Only the footpath existed but it took me to waters of the Kabini reservoir instead of the village. How much I wanted to see my villae and the school, etc.
Most people I met in Belathur weren't too bothered by the changes, after all it had happened many decades ago and for most people it had happened before they were born or could remember. The people who remembered had adjusted to the changes and had forgotten aout it. Since I didn't know these happenings but retained my memories in tact, it was hard for me to suddenly accept the changes.
As I walked along the footpath, you should imagine my fervent attempt to fnd the sagade tree of my memory. A few youngsters who accompanied me couldn't even know what the Sagade tree is.
Memories, memories...
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Another example is if I am facing a wall, and there is a clock on the other side of the wall, I don't see it, but it is there. Mirage is an optical illusion where I see a pool of water on the highway ahead of me on a hot summer day, but it is not really there.
When President Reagan lost his memory due to Alzheimer's, I don't think he even remembered that he was once the President of the US of A or what US of A really was. Does this mean it wasn't really Reagan? Is it possible for a person to transform to another with complete memory loss? Memory is just a set of thoughts lodged in the brain. Brain is "body" as opposed to "mind." If we accept this, does this mean, Reagan continues to exist if we extend the degradation of the "body" to its extreme, i.e., the death? This about this.