The Jar of Blue Marbles

Every time Naina wanted to forget something, a blue marble appeared in her room.

The first one rolled out from under her bed the day her best friend moved away.
The second dropped into her palm after she forgot her grandmother’s voice.

Soon, a glass jar on her desk began filling up — tiny blue marbles, cool and glowing faintly in the dark.

One evening, curious and tired of pretending she didn’t notice them, Naina opened the jar.

The moment she touched a marble, the memory returned — not sharp and painful, but warm and whole. Her best friend’s laugh. Her grandmother’s lullaby. Even the sting of goodbye felt softer.

She realized the marbles weren’t there to erase memories.

They were there to keep them safe until she was brave enough to feel them again.

That night, she placed the jar by her window.

And for the first time, she understood — forgetting is easy.

Remembering is magic.