Thursday, May 04, 2006

Occupied Space.

I was wondering about the concept of space in my life. Not the molecules of hydrogen and helium beyond the exosphere, but the one I occupy at different places, in different ways.

Home, sweet home. For 9 long years, I have lived here. The walls, the paint, the smell of my room seem so familiar. It is strange that all of a sudden, I have started to notice things I would not previously. My room has been my personal space for so long now. This is where I have studied for all my exams. When I was in my final year of school, dad had designed a cupboard for me. It is similar to the ones you would see on the Inside Outside magazines, where when you unlocked it, one of the sides would unfold as the study table. When you were through, you could close it like the door of an oven and lock it up again. Dad had designed it for me to keep my books, and that was perhaps the most special possession I had. Slowly, my books started increasing in size and volume, and dad designed another huge showcase for me (it is of the same height that I am) that covered one full wall of my room. I still remember how I would proudly show it off to my friends, unable to sleep out of excitement. Probably it was after that that I started buying new books and novels with greater fervor.

My room is where I cried in solitude when nobody would understand me. It is where I read those hundreds of novels to kill loneliness. It is where new thoughts and ideas have taken shape. It is where I saw the sunset from. My room houses all the normal things any room would have. Yet somehow, every bit of my space seems so special to me.

The bed, the pillows, the bed sheets, the cartoon wall hanging, the corner where I would hang my weekly planner, the wall clock, the large snap of mine on one of the walls, everything seems to have survived with me for years now. I have a huge collection of weird things. There is a black cardboard box where I have a huge collection of the greeting cards friends would give me. I love to collect earrings. And then, I have a habit of collecting dozens of pencils and pens of different colors. I have a huge collection of seashells of different shapes and sizes and designs. I love to keep all the letters that I get and read them over and over again. I have a few dozen albums filled with snaps of all occasions- our childhood, school, freshers’ parties, farewells, excursions, weddings, and so on. There was a time when I would collect hundreds of audio cassettes. Now, the collection has dwindled and shifted to CDs.

I know that I will be moving out of this place pretty soon. And since it is not possible for me to carry everything, I will have to get rid of a vast chunk of my paraphernalia. This includes all the things I have mentioned, and many more. These are things that I hold dear, these are things with which are associated so many memories. These are the things I have amassed over a period of years. I still remember how I persuaded mom to get me that black sleeveless dress from Metro Plaza. I would touch the particular page on my slam book for months where a former crush had scribbled. Almost every tee shirt I got myself, every dress, every accessory I bought would be the result of saving money and some mad bouts of endless shopping spree. Every thing I possess, every space I occupy, holds so many memories for me.

The particular dining chair I sit on, the window panes in my room, this swivel chair dad got me, this computer keyboard I am typing from, my favorite collection of songs I listen to, everything holds a different memory for me. It is the space that I have occupied for years now. I will soon be alienated from all this. Hopefully in a few months’ time, I will be living in a different country, breathing different molecules of oxygen, touching unfamiliar doors and windows, sitting on unfamiliar chairs, typing on an unfamiliar keyboard. I would soon learn to live without reading the letters that I almost know by heart now, or live without the same things I do now.

I have been touching everything of late, trying to get a feel of things. My wardrobe, my clothes, my books, my study table, my cupboard, even the huge cartoon wall hanging. Soon, all this would be from a different era. I will make newer memories with newer things. Things would soon change and spaces would again be occupied. But the memories associated would remain frozen in an ice of timelessness forever.

I must be feeling these things because this is the first time I would be moving away. I just don’t know.

After all, there are so many other spaces I occupy. Spaces in people's lives. Friends and family.

Speaking about space, there was this favorite bench I had in the classroom where I could sit and pull a prank on others, write instant poetry, all being inconspicuous to the eyes of the teacher. The last time that I had been to college, there was a different batch, a different face sitting on that particular bench. I wonder if that person shares the same sentiments that I have about that place.

And then when I speak of space, I think of the space I have created for myself here in my blogs. There have been so many people I’ve known in these last few months. And even after all these months, I would still type my mail id and wait with bated breath, eager to read the comments I get for each post. Somehow, all these are not just statistics for me, they mean a lot more. I thought the eagerness to read comments would subside and I would soon become lackadaisical. However, that is not the case.

Anyway, I should leave now. Get back to the favorite corner in my room. Touch and feel my prized possessions once again. I need to go through the files and sort out the novels. Maybe I am getting excessively sentimental about things. Or maybe I am just plain tired and exhausted and stressed out. I just don’t know.



shweta said...

lets say i share a special attachement to the place shifted my base in delhi ..nd saw ur blog linked to shekar so here i am ...cant resist myself frm typing few wrds so here i go ...hey ...u r using ur five sensory organs in all wrong wayz ...jst keep it in one direction u r gonna hve a blast once u step out of india ...i dnt noe who u r ...nd ur links to the life ...but read couple of ur blogs nd cld get a brief picture ..although i cant size up everything in tht ...becuz words r jst figments of our extended imagination ..yet its the only weapon of xpression this 2d zone ...i am not giving u a pravachan but jst saying chilllax ...!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Scorpion King said...

In every End there is new beginning.
(Jana tau sabhi ko hai eak din ?? )

Surely we cant take all our things everywhere we go , but we can always take few snaps with us .(Hard or soft copy)

Lastly Keep on writing blog ,we will make sure it wont go uncommented.

Good Luck .

Scorpion King.
P.S:Keep a snap of padosees cow too.

razor4077 said...

i've always had the same attachment to objects and places - my tiny wooden room in the flat i grew up in, the badminton racket my mom gifted me, my collection of cars, story books, my desk (which incidentally, had the exact same oven-door design!).... the list is endless.
but i've been away from home since i got out of school... and i've been moving around since. so i guess i've "taught" myself to be indifferent to objects and places... even my home. it sounds very cold, i know, but this is the only way i can move around without feeling terrible every time.
i guess i'm looking forward to the day when i will settle down in one place and start getting attached to the things around me again :)

Rose said...

Ur post reminded me of this poem that I came across some time ago...

"My room is my refuge
My prison… My sanctuary… And my cage
It gives me safety from almost everyone
And keeps me from their rage

It’s a haven from unpleasantness
And a safe harbor from fear
It protects me from the world
But the cost of my safety is quite dear.

I stay cloistered in this womb
I’ve have created of concrete walls
And an over-locked door I refuse to answer
When someone taps because it rattles me to the core

I will escape this room someday
And begin to live anew.
It may take a long time
But it’s something only I can do."

Hold onto ur spaces..



ASSET said...

First time here. saw ur post n felt like commenting.
U look quite attached to ur place or better space.No doubt it happens with most ppl, but if you look at it closely as to what is making tht happen, u may b able 2 adapt to the changes much easily.
Actually, ppl tend 2 go in the comfort zone living in same conditions, u know how things gonna work out, where is wht etc etc. Its the thought of leaving this comfort zone that makes ppl jittery. Its more of the anxiety tht how one is gonna cope in the new surrondings tht causes the problem, rather than sadness of going away from familiar conditions.

There are two kinds of ppl, one who live in these comfort zones and fear ne change in life; and the other one who always look forward to any change as bringing in more zeal in life, a chance to get a new experience.The category is generally decided by one's upbringing n the circumstances.
But i know ppl who were able 2 migrate from one category to another with some effort.
The sooner u can do it, the better these changes wud look.


sunshine said...

Rose, that was a lovely poem. Thanx a million.


You should feel sentimental about the things you possessed till date and the things which you will not be using or seeing from now on.

Its natural!

You can take snaps of yourself in every corner of your room and take the snaps along with you to the place u r going. If you miss ur home then, u can look at these snaps and cry in nostalgia.

Be positive! You have to be practical and forget ur past to make a bright future.

Ranjit Nair said...

For a moment there, I thought your post was about me!

But seriously, I sorta know what you feel; I feel pretty much the same way about my book collection whenever I have to move - deciding which ones to get rid of and which ones to take is a pain (despite having 2/3 copies of the same book often!).

Adarsh said...

hi... i am a regular reader of ur 'space' here....but it's the first time i m posting a comment. this particular blog of urs touched me deeply. I m also very possesive...and me too wants to go abroad for higher studies.....may be tht's y
let me tell u.... u write extremely well..... i m ur fan...and u r 1 of the those who inspired me to blog. i always wonder how to reach ur level of thinking..may be smday i would.
newayz.....keep posting....sm1 gets inspired by u....take care...bye