I always used to wnde as to why I take refuge in the past though I know that past is a dead memory. But is it true that past is a dead memory and needs to be buried deep in th labyrinths of layers? It is paradoxical yet true that nothing lasts forever, yet nothing ends forever. How beautiful! I find answer to my question as to why past gives me refuge and why I am not able to get away from the mamories of my past?