Memory was that woman on the train. Insane in the way she sifted through dark things in a closet and emerged with the most unlikely ones - a fleeting look, a feeling. The smell of smoke. A windscreen wiper. A mother's marble eyes. Quite sane in the way she left huge tracts of darkness veiled. Unremembered.
In "The God of Small Things," Arundhati Roy portrays memory as a complex and almost chaotic woman on a train, insinuating that it can be unpredictable and irrational. She skillfully navigates through a myriad of hidden emotions and experiences, digging out fragments of the past that evoke strong sensations, such as a fleeting glance or the scent of smoke. These seemingly insignificant moments can evoke deep feelings and memories.
However, memory also possesses a rational side. It selectively obscures extensive areas of darkness, leaving certain painful or unremarkable events unremembered. This duality highlights how memory operates: while it can bring forth vivid images and emotions, it also protects us by veiling some experiences entirely. Roy’s depiction suggests that memory is not only a repository of past experiences but also a balancing act between remembering and forgetting.
