The world we live in has a strange notion about downgrading materials posession and the love for it, throwing bad light on people indulging in materials and labelling them as “Materialistic”. But then, our world is filled with one too many strange and wrong notions. Having an emotional attachment to materials does not make one selfish, rather it upholds a more sensible character of them.
We can associate various emotions on certain materials just as we associate the emotions on human bond. The things we posses are nothing less than the connection we have with human beings.
The slightly rusty tea pot of my grandmother holds my memory of her gently serving me a warm cup of tea every morning while she was still here among us. It brings back memories of the tender love I recived in childhood from my grandparents.
Possessions such as a photo album, which once opens, brings the whole family together with happiness and joys dating back to the simpler times, stilled through a retro film Camera and into square picture frames.
No matter how old and withered and of no use anymore, my parents just can’t throw out the Casettes, as they bear the marks of those road trips in the hilly towns with uplifting songs pouring out from the cassettes in the car’s music player. Those mundane tea time sunsets that the Casettes turned into golden moments with the Mohammed Rafi or Begum Akhtar tunes sweetening the air through those casettes.
While cleaning out wardrobes occasionally, I stumble into my white school shirt with all my dear friends’ and teachers’ signatures and sweet notes scribbled on them and I find myself smiling for the rest of the day.
One particular corner of our house’s storeroom is piled up only with the diaries I possessed over the years since I was five and reading them seldomly reminds me of innocence and makes me marvel at how I have grown as a person, overcame insecurities and difficult phases, retains my belive in the strength and bravery of myself.
Memories that materials hold:
There’s an wooden box kept away safely in my closet that contains little things such as key chains and pendants and tiny toys ; all gifted to me by my friends from childhood. They remind me of my true and pure bonds with them, bonds that can never be severed.
But of everything I have possessed books will always be the things closest to my heart. For during difficult times when I could turn to no one, books have always been there. The crisp yellow pages have silently made me feel welcomed and understood, I have found a home and my safe heaven in between the words. The pages have taken my teardrops and in return I have adorned them with pretty flowers from my adventures. Each book has been like a different friend to me with a different story but with the common inbuilt nature of offering the reader a feeling of being back home, a feeling of being loved, a feeling of belonging.
Of everything I have possessed, I don’t see them simply as materials, but each of my belongings holds within them a little piece of my personality and my memories. These objects preserve who I am and who I used to be. So I reckon, it can be said that :
You are known by the things you posses.
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Objects are one beautiful way to trap a certain feeling or a certain memory. It can be a time machine to the long gone past. The toys we played with during our childhood days, if we find them now, they might be broken, rusty or faded, yet they can take us back to a time of comfort and innocence. No matter what a difficult time we are going through in our adult life, for a while, life feels beautiful and worth living.