Things

on

   Weekends are sluggish. Probably the only time when I’m able to accomplish my goal of a blissful 7 hours sleep. Weekend mornings(afternoons really) are spent lying around thinking about irrelevant stuff. Thoughts run amok. One such thought I had was about THINGS.

   Things I’ve accumulated. Things I’ve kept safe. Some hidden. Some in plain sight. Things I’ve grown attached to. Things that I now consider a part of me.

   I thought a lot about it. Why do we grow fond of seemingly worthless things? Why do these things garner a special place in our hearts? Why these things lying under our bed or in a corner of a closet mean so much to us?

   Why then? Why do we keep things?

We keep things to remember that which we are scared we would otherwise forget.

-Jake Williams

(Quora readers might know him!)

P.S. A list of some of the things I’ve kept & the reason/feeling behind keeping them:

  • Question paper from my Middle School Scholarship Exam: To remind me that a failure is a failure no matter how small the margin is.(I missed out on the merit by the smallest of margins i.e. 2 marks/1 question)
  • FastTrack watch(the coolest watch ever) gifted to me by my father for my academic achievements when I was 12: Sense of pride & center of my belief that I could achieve anything if I put my heart into it. Sadly now stolen; not the belief but the watch. 😦
  • Old worn out football, Real Madrid badge & keychain: A reminder of how the infatuation began.
  • Old cricket bat: For my childhood cricketing heroes, countless memories, rivalry with cousins & forgotten friends.
  • School Team Jersey: Earned it. A treasure with my name on it.
  • Her letters & a stuffed Panda: Remains of a bygone time when things were much simpler. What can I say? Fucking teenage!
  • Movie tickets, Bombay local tickets, fake ID’s, notebooks full of priceless sketches & fav song lyrics: High school memorabilia courtesy of my friends, my companions and the most valued assholes on this planet.
  • Fav books & novels: Never quench the thirst for knowledge. Read anything, everything. Nothing is substandard enough to not read.
  • Bus ticket to Pune: How my life was about to change when I left home. A bird leaving it’s parents’ nest on a quest to fly alone and build his own.
  • My parents’ handwritten letter to me, a year after I left home: There will always be those two souls proud of me. No matter what.

Leave a comment about some things that you’ve kept?

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