A Non Collector's Items

My mum and uncle ransacked my granny’s house last week. Loaded with the best of intentions, a couple of brooms and dusters, they rummaged through drawers and cupboards, removing years and decades of papers, clothes, cutlery, electric appliances etc. In the bargain, they managed to sell off some really important items which my granny was actually using for her day-to-day cooking. My poor uncle had to actually hunt down the ‘bangar wala’ in Kalyan to retrieve those back. It was an adventure of a life time for them.

I was thinking about this incident and how my granny had, down the years, stored so many things in that house.

As for me, I have never considered myself a hoarder. I love to give away things. Clothes, shoes, books which are not in use are happily given away. So I thought to myself – what if someone had to sift through my belongings – would they find anything of absolutely no worth there? With that thought in mind, I started looking through my stuff to see if there was anything I had stored which I have never needed or wanted.

Well, I was shocked, I was a hoarder. I had an entire collection of items I had not seen for months on end. School report cards, right from kinder garden; birthday cards from youth group days, so many book marks from Shawn, Lynessa, Preeti, with cute little friendship messages behind them, a grain of rice with my name engraved on it – I don’t even remember who gave it to me. Letters written by close friends and crushes (one in French also), school and camp autograph books, even a parking ticket from the airport, in memory of seeing off a close friend.

Now these would seem as worthless items to a stranger, but for me, these are priceless. Even though I hardly look at them, I could never dream of parting with my collection. The memories they carry are invaluable. Each one symbolizes a person or a moment which has touched my life in some way or the other – some bitter memories, some sweet – but nonetheless – never to be forgotten. Some of those incidents seem so petty and small now, but years back, when they actually took place, they made up my world. And I need these little mementos to help me keep these memories alive.

Maybe years later, I can sit on a rocking chair and share all these with my grandchildren (much to their dismay, I’m sure). But for that, they would first have to survive my mum’s spring cleaning. Maybe it’s time I hired a safe deposit locker :)