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This entry wins a consolation prize for the 'Me, a box' creative writing contest.
  • Category: Creative Writing

    I am an old small plastic box.

    I am an old small plastic box of pale grey color and my owner is Seema,  the house lady of this house. She keeps me in her wardrobe behind her clothes.

    She opens me time to time and I get fresh air and feel afresh.  No one except her knew me till last week when this incident happened here.

    Before coming to the incident I will like my readers to know about the life of my house lady Seema.

    Seema was keeping me with her since she was 12 years of age. After completing her graduation she was searching for a job but meanwhile her marriage was fixed with Manuj who was working in a private company in nearby town. Both the families were middle class and the marriage ceremony was performed in Seema's house. During the ceremony I was lying in one of the cupboards where Seema kept her books. I was listening to the sounds of guests and friends coming to offer good wishes to the newly married couple. They were also presenting gifts to them.

    After the marriage, at the time of departure Seema came hurriedly and took me in her hands and kept me with her personal belongings.

    Seema and Manuj left for the nearby town where Manuj lived with his parents. They were greeted by the family and friends there. Seema found the place very cordial and friendly. While arranging her belongings she carefully kept me behind the clothes in her wardrobe.

    About 12 years have passed since the marriage,  Seema gave birth to two sons who are going to school and Seema was well contented with her family life.

    Meanwhile I have become much older and my color has turned pale grey from grey. My routine remained same in the hands of my owner.

    As I mentioned before, the incident happened last week when casually Manuj happened to see Seema putting me back in the wardrobe.

    He exclaimed, "Seema you can keep that box in store or discard it and get a new one to keep your valuables."

    Seema just smiled and told, "Oh,  nothing. Let it be."

    Manuj looked surprised, "Oh, come on. I will get you a new one."

    Seema was silent.
    Manuj became curious.  He knew  Seema well. She was a simple lady.  Never disagreeing with him.

    Manuj just wanted to see the contents inside me. He casually signaled Seema to give it to him. Seema obeyed. Much to the surprise of Manuj,  it was full of some insignificant items like a old torn ribbon,  small broken rubber ball,  a small old spoon, hair bunch for doll etc.

    "Why are you keeping it here?",  Manuj could not hide his surprise.
    No answer came from Seema.

    Manuj looked towards her. She was sad and her eyes were wet.

    "What is the matter?",   Manuj was not able to understand the things.

    "Oh dear," she sobbed, "My younger sister,  who met with accident ...  we played with these things ... when we were small."

    Manuj was taken aback. Now he remembered that at the time of marriage they talked about her younger sister who met with accident at an age of 10 years and died.

    Manuj could not talk to her for some time. His eyes were also wet by now. He  silently put  back the items and took me in his hands and kept me back in the wardrobe.

    This is the entry for 'Me, a box' contest.
  • #598216
    A story full of sentiment and emotion. Our remembrances will not go especially if we have bitter experiences. I lost one of my sister at the age of 3 years to her. I was around 12 years at that time. Till today I have some memories of her in my mind. A book written by my father was dedicated to her. Sometimes I open that book and read the page in which the dedication to her was mentioned.

    Good luck to Mr.Umesh.

    always confident

  • #598228
    Some times some things would bring the old memory to the fore and through which we get solace and get more closer to the lost character. Good content by the author.
    K Mohan
    'Idhuvum Kadandhu Pogum "
    Even this challenging situation would ease

  • #598296
    An excellent story from Mr. Umesh. Indeed, if a family-member leaves at a tender young age, other members of the family try to keep his/her memory alive by preserving small items used by the departed family-member. The author has described the story lucidly.
    Non-violence is the greatest Dharma; So too is all righteous violence.

  • #598588
    Story is very emotional so best story

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