Rest in Peace the Old me…

As I enter the room,  my eyes search for the old rusty box which my parents had kept safely before moving out. There were plenty of cobwebs, old mattresses and furniture, as I walked past them. It was all so dusty, yet the scent of memories kept it fresh all along…

My eyes finally catch hold of that box. That very box, which had all my childhood stored in one piece.

I neatly open the box, stripping off the tape with a pair of scissors. The first frame, the first gaze, of a girl who had tripped in her athletic competition but had still managed to complete the race. I smile recollecting that very scene. My mom framed it as an encouragement for being a “Brave” me.

Next came out was my first trophy in an origami fest… It reminds me of how much bold I was in standing up for the things I loved. Those days this art form was not that appreciated and it made me love it all the more.

Underneath the pink satin ribbon, were a bunch of polaroids. My favourite moments mixed with the ugly, funny moments all captured and now in this box waiting for my older self to look back to.

The picture of my parents and me on my 16th birthday, a birthday of my dreams coming true,  when life was not all messed up and uncertain and thus hopeful,  new and mine.

Our trio squad picture remains to date; oh how lucky I am to have them as my soul sisters.

The only decent picture of me with my brother on his graduation day – he surely became much taller than me. I chuckle on recollecting the event. It’s always fun to have him around…

I get hold of cutouts of my first few articles which were printed – the way I fantasized about life and how it is,  still gives me jitters…

My favorite black block heels which I wore to the school dance,  still shining as bright as it was back then…  Reminds me of how I never stopped dancing to my beat. But now it seemed as if I lost hold of the very beat…

My stamp collection book is still intact and how I used to love the idea of mailing letters to dear ones. Now it has become online and the meaning behind the letter played no significance. It’s sad, yet the definition of making someone else happy has not lost its importance.

My phone beeps and an emergency case arrival is alerted. I needed to rush.

I swiftly put all the things back inside the box and stammer while leaving at the doorknob of my room. I leave it open. I don’t know why.

I walk down the hallway and outside the main door. The cottage where my family resided most of my childhood days had become a vintage memorial. It wasn’t just the rusty box,  the scent which still resided in the hallways kept the memory lane fresh for us,  how my brother and I played hide and seek behind those curtains,  how our mother waited for us near the dinner table every day and how we never let dad read the newspaper properly and everything in between. This place was my home.

Tears come flowing down my cheeks and the reason is soo undefined.

Who knew time could roll so fast?

Who knew every year a new version of me would appear, and disappear?

Could I go back to the old me?

Or have I outgrown her?

Would the old me like the new me?

There are trees, bushes, herbs and an entire forest now growing around my home…  All I Had to say was

Rest in Peace the Old me

Nidhi Parikh