Remento

"Memory can change the shape of a car or the colour of a room."

Yep, that's definitely what he said. :)

Whilst on my way to my church cel-group meeting this evening, through the window of the 273 bus, on Mount Eden Road, I suddenly recognised... a kebab shop.

And then suddenly it all came back to me.

This was the place where, one night in March last year, Anna-Lisa, Rose, myself and probably others had waited 10 minutes to be served one evening. I'd spent some of that time in the convenience (all right dairy) store next door.

So I looked across and, yes, there next to it was just such a shop! I'd gone in there. I'd picked-up a packet of Milo, read the ingredients, and learnt that it was no ordinary hot chocolate after all. In fact its constituents seemed to remind me of chocolate Horlicks back home.

But to solidify my memory's accuracy I needed something more. I needed a third marker.

Whilst the bus still dawdled, I tried to recall what I'd seen on the other side of the road that night. I checked what was there now, but nothing rang any bells.

And then I saw it.

Next door to the kebab shop, on the opposite side to the convenience store, was a restaurant called "Sitar."

This I remembered, and suddenly a short movie replayed in my head.

A car had pulled up outside. An Asian guy had got out and entered the restaurant. I even remembered the numberplate on his car.

"SITAR 1"

Or maybe the 1 was a 2. I remember thinking that in this tiny populus of just 4 million people, having your business' name on your numberplate really wasn't such a big deal after all.

As the 273 bus carried me away again, I was convinced that I had not recalled that guy once in the 15 months since I had seen him that night.

I subsequently said a very quick prayer for him, because he'll never know, and I like such a tenuous connection to him to result in some good. I sometimes pray for people in old photographs too.

After all, if God can see all time - past, present and future - what are memories if not visions of the past?