That moving experience

It was the time most of us dread. Yes the shifting of houses. Where you are forced to let out the skeletons from your closet (literally)
I had to shift to a new house and began the tedious process of packing, throwing away unwanted item and an experience, which I had not expected.

I began with my wardrobe wondering how I had managed to accumulate so many clothes (especially since I never have anything appropriate to wear when the occasion arrives)
So I started pulling out and decided to throw away the clothes I don’t wear – A yellow halter top I never had the nerve to wear, but had bought it cause I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. I remember not having enough money to buy it. I had borrowed money from my friend to get it. My white school shirt with all my friends’ messages scribbled on it – now I couldn’t possibly throw that. I vividly remember the last day of my school. All of us eager to go out in the world and scared as well of coming out from the safe cocoon of our school. A lovely black lace shirt that I had burnt by accident – but I could not bear to part with it.

Sigh this was hopeless so I moved to the shoe rack –
There was a pair of original Charles & Keith that I had managed to get in a sale. Unfortunately it was a size small and ended up giving me the worst pain if I wore it for long. But then I could always wear it on special occasion. Right???
And then there were my favorite fuzzy bunny sandals. Ugly but so comfortable.

Realizing I was fighting a losing battle I finally opened a cabinet.
It was stacked with albums – All my school photographs, classroom picnics, college parties, birthdays.
And somewhere in between all these were letters. Letters my school friends had written to me (before the email age). Birthday cards sent by them, school year books and autograph books scribbled in.
That’s when I realized that I could not throw away any of this. So I packed up all these cherished memories to my new home.

Because after all – houses change, memories don’t.