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Burning The Past Doesn’t Bury It . .

Writer's picture: barishkumar samantaroybarishkumar samantaroy

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What I learned, when the diaries were burned: February 6th 2024

Istood above a crackling fire as the sun merged with the forest, embers flying here and there, occasionally landing in the patches of sand in the lawn.

Before me burned something quite sacred, though a sort of disgrace of the last three years of my life.

Before me, my journals and diaries burned in wet flames.

I believed with my whole being, that burning my journals would transform those years of disappointment and pain.

I thought it would make all those bad feelings and experiences go away.

The phoenix rises from the ashes, right? I was determined to have my phoenix.

Though, something didn’t feel right.



Before me, my journals and diaries burned in wet flames.


What I felt inside Was utter betrayal to the person who wrote those entries, who went through those hardships to get me where I was today.


This wasn’t the first time I had a journal burning session. In the past I gathered up boxes of multicolored notebooks, and ceremoniously burned them in the night.

Each time was pivotal for me, my life would gravely change in the years after.


The act of burning writing from the past started in high school. Every summer, I’d invite my friends over to my parents’ house, and we’d have a homework burning party with a huge bonfire and s’mores.

It was a way of saying good riddance to another year in school. It was much more fun than throwing our notebooks of math problems in the trash.,


JaiHind.. 🇮🇳 JaiBharat..

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