At first, the broad generic details begin to blur.
You forget the contours of the face. The breadth of the forehead. The locks of the hair. The shape of the sindoor. The size of the eyes. The dazzling, ever-changing earrings. The smile.
Then, the specifics begin to disappear.
The eye-liner that accentuated the glittery black eyes. The distinct pronunciation that almost bordered on a lisp. The thread around the wrist. The awkward, anorexic elbow. The abnormally long fingers. The smiley-face on the nail.
Then, the voice. That's when you begin to realize the eroding power of time. And one fine morning as you wake up, you forget the words spoken.
Your brain works its way through a maze of distractions you throw at it and in its attempt to store new data, the old cherished memories are gradually, unconsciously discarded into the trash. Over the years, metaphors give away to abstraction and all you can remember is the love and the loss.
But that's when reality dawns. You never really forget. Every little detail is sharply etched in your memory. May be it doesn't work that way for all, but for some, remembrances are frozen, fossilized and preserved intact.
The smiley-face drawn over the nail-polish is slightly winking at you. And you remember it just fine. Forever.