I was in 4th standard when Mom lent her HMT to me. It was a secret we both kept from Dad because he thought I was too young to be given a watch to wear to school. Moreover, those days, kids that age did not really get a wrist watch of their own. I was one of the first in my class too. From then, 1995, till beginning of 2011, there never was a day when I stepped out without a watch on my wrist. I graduated from that first watch to some others to the one that I inherited from my brother in, I think, 2004. He has too many watches, he didn’t like that one too much, and so I decided to take it from him. What I did not know while taking it from him was that I would get surprisingly sentimental about it. I started thinking of it as a part of my brother being with me through all good and bad times. After a point, I needed it with me on all important days.
Pune had me and my watch go through some tough times. And by the time I got back to Delhi, we both had scars that we had a hard time dealing with. It was ugly, to say the least.
When 2011 began, I decided I could not wear this watch any longer. It was in very bad shape. But as I gave it rest, I could not bring myself to buy a new one. I did visualise something that I would like, but I did not find anything like that the one time I took myself shopping. And there went month after month of a bare wrist!
I finally figured that it would be best if I got this one repaired. It took a month of overhauling, and it is back with me today. It is black, but still makes me very happy. The timing is even more significant because as of today, we both feel resurrected.
2 comments:
Funny how there is that one thing we become completely dependent and superstitious about.
But I realised, that the day I got the guts to pack it up and keep it carefully in the back of my cupboard for eternity, I felt more in control...shit scared...but in control.
I know! That feeling of control is absolutely amazing!
Isn't it the same when you gather the courage to get rid of any such thing - the thought of parting with it is horrible, but when you do throw it away it feels liberating? :)
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