The 10:45 epiphany

When you gifted me my first wrap-around, did you imagine I'd hold it dear even after five years of not having a word from you. So dear, in fact that I could not find an occasion worthy enough to wear it all this time.

I lugged it around with me where ever I went in search of that perfect occasion - relatives' homes where I stayed for vacations(the skirt packed neatly in the suitcase, glittering occasionally with memory), days spent abroad(where it languished under other clothes - useful winter clothes), from my home to my husband's home to another city (bundled among all the other clothes I could not bear to let go).

I hunted for the right top to go with it. Searched from Khan Market to Sarojini Nagar and finally found the cloth I liked in a seedy Punjabi Bagh shop. I scoured Delhi for the right tailor to stitch me something of it to match the skirt. I left the skirt with him for that time.

Fnally, I wore the skirt (which is always 'your gift', 'a precious memory of an afternoon with silver candles' in my mind) for a concert of French music. Perfect to go with the celebrated language of love in melodious song. I'd finally found the occasion. Yesterday.

And I also found that

it is too long for me, it catches my toes in its embroidered threads. I tripped twice, tied it up high on my waist to resume some semblance of walking and missed enjoying my post-concert ice-cream as much as I could have because I had to keep an eye on all the threads that tangled with my toes with every forward step.

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So much for preserved and unused memories.