Manana LALAYAN

I remember its grace to this very day. The image is vague, quite frankly, but it still somehow finds its way back to the surface of my mind (as if it holds a particular importance of which I’m not aware of). There’s indeed something fascinating in the ability of one’s mind to select and safeguard specific memories out of thousands. So many countless memories, so many exciting adventures full of vivid emotions, yet they oftentimes fade (or even completely disappear) in the dark and mysterious place that is the unconsciousness.

I’ve seen it, or rather I think I’ve seen it — sometimes I doubt that it actually happened. Was it an incredibly realistic dream or a dream-like reality? There’s a difference, isn’t there? At this point, I’m confident of only one thing — that it’s one of those rare memories that you can’t seem to grasp fully, no matter how desperately you try. As if it’s only within arm’s reach yet also miles and miles away, buried in thick waves of fog and wall of rain. But it’s there, and you know that, it’s just your mind attempting to deceive you. You must be very confused right now, forgive me, — I am too. Confusion is inevitable when the tricks of the mind are involved. Perhaps that’s the reason why whenever I try to recollect all the shattered bits of this memory, I'm continuously faced with failure. But in any case, the biggest and brightest piece is always the image of the large and rich red fruits on the tree. It was the top of a pomegranate tree, that I ’m sure of; the rest seems like a blur. Before that, I have never seen a pomegranate tree in my life. Before that, I have never even thought about how pomegranates grow. Moreover, I’ve most certainly didn’t expect to see such a tree on a sunny summer day on my way to the shop. So naturally, curiosity took over me, and I had to take a closer look. I stopped and gazed at it through a small hole in a wooden fence for a minute or two — or was it only a few seconds? was there even a fence? Nevermind. The view that opened before my eyes (or should I say my eye) was beyond stunning, and a complete astonishment struck the twelve-year-old me after seeing the glorious tree with lots of big red fruits tempting to pick them. The next day I was certain that it was merely an illusion, so I went to make sure my enchanting tree was still there. And it was. Although you can’t trust me - maybe it was my mind misleading me yet again.

You might think that there’s nothing special about seeing a pomegranate tree, it’s just a tree, after all. And I would entirely agree with you. It’s still uncertain to me why I always go back to this memory — it doesn’t have a unique value (at least I think so) — it merely exists in the depths of my mind. However, what’s more bewildering is that this memory brings a

slight but warm smile to my face every time. For all I know, it might have been just a fantasy.