By the roaring waves!

Memory hoarder (1)

Of course. What else would you expect from a December-born, all-feels Maria who is still writing on randomlyabstract, her blog of 8 years plus.

I remember the time we got these drawers made when we shifted to this house. It felt SO special, having a personal space. SO wow, you know. And then we got locks on them. I told the locksmith to do his best work on mine. I found it all so stunning that I kept sitting there, talking, looking, checking if mine was the best. (My lock got faulty before anyone else’s btw. Such luck!)

Khair. I used to be obsessed about that drawer and the stuff in it. I couldn’t throw things. Even today my family asks me before throwing away kachra that they think could be ‘useful’ for the crafter. But friends’ chit-chats, over-emotional letters of that time, Urdu poetry so sad I find it worrisome now, my personal personal personal diary that I would probably treat as a treasure then (because – let’s face it – I’ve been a sensitive kid. Also the middle daughter. I was convinced that I was hated by EVERYONE mashaAllah. And then I liked to write. Imagine having ALL of that still present despite the diary wanting to very much rest in peace now.) And then other things.

A lot of things, I imagine now, want to rest in peace. So I have brought out my drawer, one I had stopped caring for long long time ago, and started cleaning it. There’s stuff I put up on my insta stories as a last tribute, and for the other personal bunch, I know I cannot leave it so easily unless I’ve at least preserved them in writing. Which is why I am here.

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