She threw it away; did not even ask me once; she never does it like that. My mom knows how obsessed I am with my room, and each and every thing that it holds. How could she just walk in, open my drawers, take those bangles and throw them away assuming they might not be of any use to me.
I don’t remember if it was the last time we had met, but I am certain that it was at least close to the last time. She had come to my home, my mom and dad were not here; we were no more in any relation with a name, but we still were close. We could not just forget; we were giving each other time to grow away from each other, but I think we both secretly hoped that, that time should never end. She had forgot her bangles at my place. It was one of those ethnic bangles, with a wooden and bronze touch and a matte brown color. I thought I would give it to her the next time she comes. I cannot recollect if she never came after that or she had come few times after that and I forgot to give it back to her; but she never got them back. Those bangles stayed with me. And I liked the fact that they did. It was a small part of her, the only something of her that I might have left, with me, forever.
Whenever I came home and opened those drawers, I smiled when I saw those bangles. We have moved on, but a part of me was clinging onto those bangles, onto her, and I will never let that part walk with me as I move on. I want it to be there; ill advised, but still the way I would like things to be.
Yesterday, when I opened my drawer, it was not there. I asked my mom and to my horror I learnt from her that she threw it away because the last time she asked me about them, I was very evasive about the answer, and so she thought it might not be of any value to me. I could not shout at her because she did not know the value that it held for me; but I could not let myself be shut in either. I shouted, I asked how could she just throw away something that is mine without even asking me. She was sorry, but she was also confused about the reason of my irate behavior. The dubious face she held made me realize that there was no point telling all this to her. I had to let it be.
I have to, now, let it be. It is gone. Not that those bangles would have someday made things back to the way I liked it, neither had I kept those bangles in the hope that she would someday come back to ask for it. That would be stupid, and besides, I, more than anybody wanted her to move on from me.
But without those bangles, I feel torn, I do not know why. It was not as if I used to always carry it with myself, but maybe the part of me holding it, is gone with it. Or maybe now that part, like me, is stranded alone with nothing to hold on to; unable to move on, but solitary at where it stands. I had let a part of me stay in the past, and now that part is still there, unclear, of what it should be with.
I should have kept them somewhere more secure. This is weird, but I don’t even feel like opening the drawer now. With all the things that it has, it is still going to look painfully empty.
- Life in a Drawer (danishpastrypie.wordpress.com)