Mementos and Scattered Belongings

Carrying a Life in Boxes

As someone who has lived abroad for over fifteen years, I’ve left things scattered all over the world. A few items here and there at friends’ places, left with the naive thought that one day I’d come and pick them all up. It never happened. Of course it didn’t. Most of them are at my childhood home. Whenever I return, my mum is persistent about cleaning up those closets. We have no space, she frowns. It can’t be that bad, I think, and open the wardrobe.

Skinny jeans with ripped knees, suitable for a rock concert. A couple of T-shirts from 2005. These are souvenirs of a kind: one from the time I ran a 10K race and got a finisher’s shirt, another from the Youth Media Club, reminding me of my journalism studies and my love of writing. Those I’ll keep. I’m not sure about the jeans; I don’t think I’ll ever wear them again. They still fit—surprisingly so—but it’s the style I’m not convinced about. Still, I loved them. Finding a pair of jeans that are so you is rare. Can I really throw them out like they never meant anything?