Life is a series of memories, those memories which are active in our mind and can relate to, while others that are told and seen at times by the visual photographs. Life is all about connecting the dots … dots, where you started from and as for today where you are. Good things are something’s bundled together in a box, a gift for oneself.
Shifting residences… from a home to a house… simply a place that belongs to you to a place rented by you for the convenience of life.
The feeling of moving into a new place gives you the vibes of starting all over again… meeting new people and new surroundings… that thing which engages us to rewire ourselves, right from travel perspective to living standards.
I am of the belief that almost everyone I know of has done this shifting of residence at least once till date.
I decided to move places near to my sister’s stay so that she could visit our parents more often while I was on the travel spree… makes sense.
So I bundled our things and the important files and things I would personally carry… a few trips back and forth… the new place being only a few kilometres. Although the travelling distance was not much… it felt like with every trip of mine, I was letting go of the things that had bound me to the place where I had spent some considerable time of my life.
The real test is when the movers and packers step in and go about packing stuff—and what you felt like you had so little to worry about turns out to be a never-ending task.
As the boxes keep on piling on the side of the wall… somewhere the story of the last 20–25 years seems to be boxed in seemingly countless boxes. On each box were certain codes to indicate whether the memory inside was fragile or strong.
There and then, you see your life… all those memories… memories in a box.
Some of the items represent the times of struggle and making it through, while a lot of them talk about the joy and happiness of getting in a new television, a grinder mixer, microwave ovens, and the awards.
A lot of utensils and crockery yet to be used after years… bought with urgency and then packed to be forgotten…
Some of the things that were found… were presumably lost till then… and some did not exist till then.
The layers of years had somehow hidden those things away from sight and yet each of those things were memories… now in a box.
As the home got bundled in boxes with memories to be shipped to a newer place of stay… one single box had something more than all the boxes together… which we discovered as a jewel when we happened to open it after we reached our new house.
Albums of photographs… grandparents… uncles, aunts, family and friends… events, celebrations, awards, birth and birthday… those whom we miss now and those who have been added to the family…
The smallest box unravelled the biggest memories. Everyone was talking about some or the other photograph… time just flew in that conversation.
Suddenly dark, I picked up the albums and put them back into the box and told everyone to continue with the unpacking.
Smiles all around… memories in a box.
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