The sacrilege of forgetting

I won’t forget.

You won’t either.

I’m certain about that.

Right?

Well, maybe not you. You were too young to form memories. And you, you weren’t born yet.

And you — over there — have forgotten, not by choice, but because of age. Your brain holds a memory like an old cell phone holds a charge.

You thought you wouldn’t forget, but the body has a way of dictating memories, like it has a way of filling your pants with urine and poop without notice.

Write it on facebook. Tattoo it to your arm.

Just above mom.

And a cross.

And a guy wielding an AK-47.

Wear “I will not forget” on a t-shirt. Put it on an armband.

Maybe you won’t forget, because you are a lucky one. But apart from reminding others about the past, what are you doing to improve the future?

What are you doing to change the stereotypes about religions?

What are you doing to learn more about the religion you hold dear?

Have you forgotten the atrocities others have committed in the name of your ideology?

Have you remembered the atrocities you have committed within the name of your idea set?

I haven’t forgotten those done in mine. They make me sick.

Don’t forget. Do your best anyway.

But march into the future with a vow to make it better.

That’s what I’m doing anyway. Hoping to do.