I don't know why I am attracted to traditional ideas and ancient thoughts. Ideas crop up in my head so suddenly, at the most unimaginable times, like an erupting volcano. So, when I'm studying Aldeyhydes, and I'm reading "Primary alchols under controlled oxidation in the presence of acidified potassium dichromate..." I stop in midsentence. Something fantastic is wriggling in my brain. I don't ignore it, I nourish the thought, and finally the wriggling worm of a faint idea aqquires meaning and dimension.
I hardly have anything to remember school by--my slam book does not count, many people could not sign it. This year, I have a bright idea, to make college days truly immortal in my memory. I want to design a memory quilt for myself. I know what you are thinking, you are probably shaking your head saying all this is 'old lady stuff'--some primitive craft confined to the hands of dim-witted housewives and circles of gossipmongers who simply have too much time to waste. Something like this might be a challenging and ambitious project for a teenager, and anyways, I'm in the "turning point" of my life (please don't repeat those words again. I UNDERSTAND i'm in the crucial phase). As quilting takes some time, I have strictly decided to begin only in the holidays after my CET exams. But the desire the thought itself has provoked is so strong, that I'm pretty sure I'll complete the quilt in a jiffy.
I have never told you the tale of the headless teddy. It was my first stitching project. I was learning to stitch from a cousin of mine, I was supposed to be stitching a teddy bear, but my first attempt yeilded disasterous results and I had to abandon my teddy bear, which reamined headless till the end. I have never touched a needle from then. Obviously, if I am to stitch something like a patchwork quilt for myself without any past expereince or prior knowledge, I need to research, and I have done it with keen interest.
Quilting is part of the great american tradition, and comes with quite a few stories and superstitions attached to it. For example, if you sew a hundred peice quilt without a single mistake in the seams, then that quilt will aqquire the magical ability to make anything you dream about under it come true. Don't worry, I'm not planning on a hundred square masterpeice--I was thinking of a simple 60 square patchwork. Here's how it will work--I'll get the fabric, and the permanent felt tip pens of all colours (ahem, quite a bit expensive there. I need to use flowery words of flattery with mom to make this work). I'll cut out the squares, and ask each friend to autograph it. Each peice that will become a part of my quilt will be charecteristically special, absolutely unique. That's because every individual is different, and everyone conveys their thoughts in writing in different forms.I'll then give some pratical meaning to all the lovingly scrawled words...I'll sew them together and sleep under them...won't that be lovely?
My quilt shall be a present I'll gift myself...something special of my creation. It, like ordinary gifts shall not collect dust behind glass showcases, or be stacked away in the attics, but shall be used to revive the best memories of college life, bring back, with vigour, the hundred faces of classmastes, when I unforgivably forget them. And slowly, with every stitch, I shall give a form to my college memories, the quilt shall be the greatest masterpeice of expression. All the memories will be sewn together to collectively narrate a story--reminding me of the countless times I've laughed this year. And yes, before going to sleep, the quilt shall give me ultimate comfort, envoloping me in a sixty wisphers of friendly 'good-nights'. I will probably go to sleep with a smile on my face, aware that my freinds are there, in written form on my memory quilt, keeping me warm though the night...but now, I need to allow my fantastic dream to melt, lock it away in my brain for a while, because I am expected to be studying organic chemisrty today. When I'm finished with the quilt, a few months down the line, you can expect a detailed account of it on my blog. So here I go again..." Primary alchols under contolled oxidation in the presence of acidified potassium dichormate..." and the wriggling worm of my idea is forced into the 'restricted thoughts' section of my brain.