I heaved a sad sigh as I stared at the mount of clothes on my bed and the heap of books on my chair. For days my schedule had been the generic act of moving the stuff to the bed during the day when I sat down to study and shift it back to bed during the night when I decided to finally get some sleep. Life had become monotonous and dull as day after day I stared at my phone then books and back at my phone till my eyes started burning with pain. The struggle to get somewhere in life is hard especially in a country like ours where struggle has so many irrelevant parameters attached to them and I happen to come under the disadvantaged section. But I had managed to set a path for myself. Now that I could breathe I decided to clean up the mess in my world. So I decided to start cleaning up with the mess in my room.
As I slowly started sorting through my clothes I landed on these pair of denims which I had since I was in the tenth standard. I looked at these and wondered what the hell were they still doing in my cupboard 6 years later! Because lets face it i am no longer the lass I used to be back in the day. The plethora of food variety in Delhi has been of no help either. For some reason I decided its a good day for some self humiliation and I stood in front of the mirror with the pair of denims hanging at my waist just to see how far along I had come. Quite far it turns out.
I laughed out loud at the ripped knees. You see ripped jeans were in trend that time and I had watched a DIY and cut the jeans at the knees with sharp slits. The result was not quite what I had hoped it would be. Instead of looking like right off the ramp of Paris Fashion Week it looked it had been through a shredder. It was a disaster and I chuckled at my stupid self 4 years ago. That was it for the pair and I wondered why I had carried its remains with me four years.
I was just about to toss it in the bundle of clothes to be given away, when I noticed the paint smudged on the thigh of the right leg. A smile tingled my lips as I recalled that it had in fact been from the bottle of emboss paints that had spilled on the jeans as I tried to paint the head of Lord Ganesha in a moving car. The painting still hangs in my room. I remember getting blasted off by my mother who all of a sudden could remember all the things I had ever done wrong in my life and didn't quite hesitate reciting the list for the benefit of everyone in the car. It took several rounds in the machine and several hours of work by the washerman but most of the paint eventually came off.
As I smiled to myself I noticed the blue ink spots on the left pocket of the jeans. They took me in a flashback. There I was a carefree 16 year old standing by the stage. The entire school was assembled for the Inter-house Jam Session. I was rejoicing at the fact that we wouldn't have to attend the Physical Education class which I absolutely hated. Then all of a sudden a teacher from the school came to tell me I would be speaking in place of this girl who couldn't show up. It was like being hit by a ball in the face. Now speaking in front of people isn't a problem for me usually but that is when I am mentally prepared. Now I was up on the stage and the topic given to me was "Homosexuality". (Back then it had not yet been declared a crime). So for some unexplained reason I decided to take a chilled out quirky approach and yelled "Mah life mah rules". It usually works in the movies but reality sucks. I saw the House Mistress "facepalming" herself and my English teacher giving me the cold eye. From that moment onward I kinda lost all the confidence that had built up, so out of nervousness I played with the pen in my pocket as I stuttered like a madgirl on the stage. One of the most painful one minutes of my life. (Other being when my mom tried to ask me if there was something going on between me and a friend of mine). I had left the cap undone and as fate would have decided it was an Ink pen. Not even one of those sophisticated well designed pens but that cheap stuff. So by the time I got off the stage...sorry was pulled off the stage there was this huge ink blot on the pocket which apparently sent everyone into hysterics. I shook my head at the absurdity of it as I came back to present.
Suddenly it all started coming back to me and I started looking for marks on that old raggy pair of denims. I saw the broken belt loop that I had got in a fight with my brother over the television remote. I saw the hem of the jeans which were of a muddy color in contrast to the pale blue color of the rest of it. The hem was a result of a rainy day when we had decided to float paper boats in the pool of water that had collected on the road (thanks to extremely exceptional drainage system of our country). This Jeans had seen some of the worst and best moments of my life and been a part of a lot of stupid experiments. I realized it held more value than just some space in the cupboard. The nostalgic trip down the memory lane was priceless and definitely not something to be tossed away I decided as I folded it gently and put it back in my cupboard with a light heart.
As I slowly started sorting through my clothes I landed on these pair of denims which I had since I was in the tenth standard. I looked at these and wondered what the hell were they still doing in my cupboard 6 years later! Because lets face it i am no longer the lass I used to be back in the day. The plethora of food variety in Delhi has been of no help either. For some reason I decided its a good day for some self humiliation and I stood in front of the mirror with the pair of denims hanging at my waist just to see how far along I had come. Quite far it turns out.
I laughed out loud at the ripped knees. You see ripped jeans were in trend that time and I had watched a DIY and cut the jeans at the knees with sharp slits. The result was not quite what I had hoped it would be. Instead of looking like right off the ramp of Paris Fashion Week it looked it had been through a shredder. It was a disaster and I chuckled at my stupid self 4 years ago. That was it for the pair and I wondered why I had carried its remains with me four years.
I was just about to toss it in the bundle of clothes to be given away, when I noticed the paint smudged on the thigh of the right leg. A smile tingled my lips as I recalled that it had in fact been from the bottle of emboss paints that had spilled on the jeans as I tried to paint the head of Lord Ganesha in a moving car. The painting still hangs in my room. I remember getting blasted off by my mother who all of a sudden could remember all the things I had ever done wrong in my life and didn't quite hesitate reciting the list for the benefit of everyone in the car. It took several rounds in the machine and several hours of work by the washerman but most of the paint eventually came off.
As I smiled to myself I noticed the blue ink spots on the left pocket of the jeans. They took me in a flashback. There I was a carefree 16 year old standing by the stage. The entire school was assembled for the Inter-house Jam Session. I was rejoicing at the fact that we wouldn't have to attend the Physical Education class which I absolutely hated. Then all of a sudden a teacher from the school came to tell me I would be speaking in place of this girl who couldn't show up. It was like being hit by a ball in the face. Now speaking in front of people isn't a problem for me usually but that is when I am mentally prepared. Now I was up on the stage and the topic given to me was "Homosexuality". (Back then it had not yet been declared a crime). So for some unexplained reason I decided to take a chilled out quirky approach and yelled "Mah life mah rules". It usually works in the movies but reality sucks. I saw the House Mistress "facepalming" herself and my English teacher giving me the cold eye. From that moment onward I kinda lost all the confidence that had built up, so out of nervousness I played with the pen in my pocket as I stuttered like a madgirl on the stage. One of the most painful one minutes of my life. (Other being when my mom tried to ask me if there was something going on between me and a friend of mine). I had left the cap undone and as fate would have decided it was an Ink pen. Not even one of those sophisticated well designed pens but that cheap stuff. So by the time I got off the stage...sorry was pulled off the stage there was this huge ink blot on the pocket which apparently sent everyone into hysterics. I shook my head at the absurdity of it as I came back to present.
Suddenly it all started coming back to me and I started looking for marks on that old raggy pair of denims. I saw the broken belt loop that I had got in a fight with my brother over the television remote. I saw the hem of the jeans which were of a muddy color in contrast to the pale blue color of the rest of it. The hem was a result of a rainy day when we had decided to float paper boats in the pool of water that had collected on the road (thanks to extremely exceptional drainage system of our country). This Jeans had seen some of the worst and best moments of my life and been a part of a lot of stupid experiments. I realized it held more value than just some space in the cupboard. The nostalgic trip down the memory lane was priceless and definitely not something to be tossed away I decided as I folded it gently and put it back in my cupboard with a light heart.
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