Sunday, September 9, 2012


I forgot to take my house keys with me when I left for a training early morning yesterday. My dear husband went on a trek and came home back at 1230 in the night (Oh! but that is another story). So here I was, at 5 PM in the evening, without the keys, without the husband who has another set and all stranded outside my own house.
I just remembered a lot of things. I remembered when I was a child, one of my friend had lost her house keys and then they finally had to break down the lock. I remembered when we had a lock that belonged to the last century, which was made of stone and yet one day, when the robber broke into my mom's house, it might not have taken him more than 10 minutes to break the lock. We didn't have the latch system only because my mother was worried that one of us (me and my sister and even my mom) would accidentally lock ourselves out when we are just hanging around at the neighbor's house (not without any justification, because there were frequent cases of the door getting shut due to wind when somebody is standing outside the door, chatting with folks around).
I remembered how as teens, we believed we had the keys to the locks of someone special's heart. I believed I knew somebody in and out only to be mistaken soon. I remember the cliches around keys, and how the key to success is blah, blah, and, blah. I remember keys playing an important part when I wanted to attract a small baby towards me - kids like shiny, ringing things.
If you were wondering if that's what I did till my husband came home, stranded outside my house - well, you don't know me then. Instead of panicking, I realized we have a spare key with the house maid, whom I contacted immediately and got hold of the keys from her graciously.

I solved a problem, but I did not see the lock of my memories broken without the need of any key.