Yesterday my Mom forced me to clean out my wardrobe. I have been postponing it for weeks. But I know it is Inevitable.
I am moving away at the end of the month. She wants to get rid of some of my clutter that I have hoarded over the years.
It is sort of a time machine. Essentially.
It has witnessed my growth. In fashion and in age. It stands still as a testimony of my journey through my baggy tops that covered my “problem area” and my insecurity; to the more fitting tops and t-shirts; and the top that I purchased in spur of the moment that may wear one day.
She wants me to get rid of some clothes that I haven’t worn in years. But she doesn’t understand, I may wear it some day. I may want them back. It is not easy to part with the bright colored floral top that hangs loose.
See Amma, I can’t part with my black jeans even though it has a hole in the knee and has faded to grey in some places, even though I have brand new one. It reminds me of the time that I jumped out of a running train! Also, ripped jeans are that trend now, so are faded ones. Also, a girl can never have enough black jeans.
I have lucky tops, comfortable pants, cute dresses, warm tops and the ones that get me praises whenever I wear them. The top I think looks cute on me, that actually makes me look like a potato with limbs. I can’t explain them all to you.
I may sound crazy to you. But I have my reasons. Valid ones.
It stood as a constant backdrop to the provincial serial life that was my College. I have stood before it in times of sickness and in health; in happiness and in sadness; in good times and in bad ones; during the cold and the heat. I have stood before it wanting energy to get through the day. It has given me the things I needed when I was rushing to catch the 7 am train. It has given me my comfy sweat pants and T-shirts when I came back home exhausted after a long day.
I have the top that I wore to the first day of my college. My lucky jeans that gave me strength to get through the semester week. The formal suit that got me through my dreaded interview. My lab coat that I despised so much, that have some how found its way to my heart. These were the things that got me through college. Every step of the way.
Now I have parted with some of them. It is time now. I know that. It is time that it belongs to some poor girl in some Ashram.
Now my clothes sits in a corner in a bag, ready to witness some other girl’s journey. They will silently witness as she tries to find her way in life. Maybe my cute top will become her comfy ones. Whatever. I hope that girl knows that, the slightly faded blue top was once a favorite of a girl who valued coffee and books as the most precious things in the world. And that, the purple short top was a source of happiness to a girl who loves Illayaraja.
Or it may become a rag cloth in some Aunty’s kitchen!
Who knows?! But my lovelies, know that wherever you go, you will never be forgotten. You will come as flashbacks when I think of my college life, in Technicolor!