Things I can’t live without

Lately, an article by Colin McQueen left me pondering about things I can’t live without. If I had to take only three things, what will I take?

Of course, we are not counting humans or pets, otherwise I will include my daughter and, by association, her barbie set and their one thousand dresses, her unicorn, the medical kit, a large array of food dishes…

Also, I will include my husband and with him comes his mobile phone, wifi connection, mobile charger, bike cleaning kit, the said bike…

I will include my parents as well and with them comes their phones, playing card stack, ludo set, their laptop, kitchen supplies…

So, in that case, I might take the whole house itself–Why leave the poor thing behind alone and empty?

So I will just things take three things then: mobile phone and laptop, and my debit card for the rest. I mean, the hotels, restaurant and malls are not going anywhere, are they?

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This list pretty practical but even as I write it I know it is a lie. I am not a practical person. I live my life like pendulum swinging between being practical and being myself. So, if there were only three things to take, I will take my drawing kit, pen and a diary because these are the things I can’t live without.

My drawing kit: Even in the years I didn’t paint (there were twelve of them), I kept my drawing kit with me as a talisman. I was going through a tough time initially and then, I just left it all behind in the race of life. I would look at the kit and tell myself that I am going to paint someday but never get down it. It was my daughter who drew me out that dark hole and made me paint with her.

It is still difficult because painting reminds me of a lot of could-have-beens but I am trying to make peace with myself that I will never be a world-renowned painter but I am a kick-ass Instructional Designer who can also paint. So, my drawing kit is coming.

A pen and a diary: During school and college days, I always had a decent supply of pens–different colours, cute and inexpensive. (What? I bought it all with my pocket money and while my father was doting, he wasn’t Bill Gates. My pocket money was enough to let me buy little things I liked but I could never afford an expensive Parker pen on my pocket money. My father would get me those.) I also had a huge array of diaries, all supplied by my father: one for songs, one for poetry, several for friends to fill, one for… Well, I think you get the point.

I stopped writing at the same time as I stopped painting. But without be a pen and a notebook, I still feel vulnerable. So, I was hoarding them too until my daughter got the whiff of them. One-by-one my pens started disappearing and now, if I need to write down anything at all, I have to borrow her pencil (pens are all used, empty and probably in a landfill now). In my daughter’s defence, I wasn’t using them anyway. But still the lack of pens makes me feel vulnerable. So I keep on getting new ones though they are bound to disappear the same way within a week. Hence my pens remained inexpensive. I hid my diaries from my daughter so well that I can’t find them anymore. But at least they are still somewhere around here. I will find them once the time comes to live with three things.

And then, I will slip my little debit card in my pocket where no one can see it. (Afterall, the restaurants, hotels and malls still aren’t going anywhere!)