Memories and memoirs

Researchers have long been trying to answer a question that has dumbfounded thinkers since the beginning of modern inquiry: How on earth can a clump of tissue in the brain possibly capture and store everything — poems, emotional reactions, locations of favorite bars, distant childhood scenes? And what stimulates it to bring back these memories on the least expected of situations? The answer, previous research suggests, is that brain cells, activated by an experience, keep one another on biological speed-dial, like a group of people joined in common witness of some striking event. Call on one and word quickly goes out to the larger network of cells, each apparently adding some detail, sight, sound, smell. The brain appears to retain a memory by growing thicker, or more efficient, communication lines between these cells.

Researchers in Brooklyn have recently accomplished comparable feats, with a single dose of an experimental drug delivered to areas of the brain critical for holding specific types of memory, like emotional associations, spatial knowledge or motor skills. The drug blocks the activity of a substance that the brain apparently needs to retain much of its learned information. And if enhanced, the substance could help ward off dementias and other memory problems. By 2050 more than 100 million people worldwide will have Alzheimer’s disease or other dementias, scientists estimate, and far more will struggle with age-related memory decline. A substance that improved memory would have far reaching implications in the treatment of memory related illnesses.

It also reminded me of an earlier time when my memory had been jogged inadvertently by events outside my control – and without the use of any experimental drugs. About three years ago, I was recovering from an unsuccessful open heart surgery. It was a cold and dreary winter made more depressing by the gloomy prognostications of all my expert doctors and a persistent insomnia. One midnight as I restlessly prowled around the quiet and cold house, I sat down at the computer in my study and idly started tapping on the key board trying to recall my past. But even as I sat there in the quiet night, I was overtaken by memories that I had long forgotten. Events and characters from the time of my childhood came rushing back and for those few moments I was taken back remembering the sounds and smells of the past. Conversations long forgotten rang in my ears. Events that I did not remember now engraved themselves on my mind. It was fortunate that I did not let that opportunity slip by but started writing these flashes of past down. Now the days instead of being dull and dreary became exciting as I eagerly awaited the quiet stillness of the night to restart working on my memoirs. I finished my book of memories over the next three months – “A Passion to Build- India's search for offshore technology- a memoir” and published it. What was even more surprising to me was that my extended family confirmed much of my memories as being accurate. To this day, I do not know how I remembered events so far in the past and without any diary or notes of those bygone days to help me. Perhaps this latest research will help unlock the mystery. A few days ago, I received a newsletter from an organization I had joined almost 40 years ago. The editor had sent me this issue as it recognized my contributions, in laudatory terms of course, during the decade or so that I worked there. I am as vain as the next person, and I must confess that it was good to be remembered. But this EIL newsletter also brought back memories that I had long since forgotten.