A WOODEN BOX FROM CHILDHOOD

Unlocking the jewel box of creativity.

- Neha Bhatia

When I was a kid, far too young, I had a wooden box. The box was the size of the smallest Mac laptop. On its top surface, it featured ornamental carvings engraved into it. And on the front, there was a metal clasp, to open and close the box.

This box was given to me by my grandmother, and even though, it was not some extraordinary box, it housed a special place in my heart, the heart of the girl I once was. In this box, I would store all those items that little girls are crazy about - pieces of broken hairclips, old bangles, beads, those glittery and shimmery things, dried flower petals, and all items likewise.

For my mother, the box was merely a junk that desrved to be thrown away. But for me, it was a treasure chest. Every time, I opened it, it would fill my heart with wonder and excitement at the plenty of broken things scattered and swirling inside that wooden box.

As I grew up, the attachment to that box withered away, and the box was thrown away. But as I recall the memory of that box, it makes me think of something.