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.
(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?