Wardrobes don’t just house clothes,
They are a time machine that can bring forth,
Smiles, laughs and emotions in drove,
Some items are a treasure trove,
Recently, while rearranging dresses, tops and shorts,
I recalled a shopping trip where we bought,
A dress for a prom an year,
And shoes to match the gear.
These reminiscences are not unique in their plot,
Yet, lived differently for each parent and tot.
A red coat that we together got,
Hangs in my closet with the lot,
Celebrated its 10th without a spot,
My teen had said-“this looks hot",
A deluge of memories of worn and wear,
Even amidst some torn and tear,
Makes ordinariness of life- special and dear,
And in hindsight without a peer.
So if you wonder, "does time truly fly?"
Isn’t it a relative phenomenon that goes by,
Open a drawer, a closet or a chest,
A find might open a memory door-the very best.
Published by Shalini Kathuria Narang
Shalini Kathuria Narang is a software professional and a freelance journalist. She has reported for national and international newspapers, magazines and news sites. Her poems have been published in several anthologies including Starry Nights: Poetry of Diaspora in Silicon Valley and Pixie Dust and All Things Magical. She is a monthly contributor to Masticadores USA and has been published on Spillwords Press. She is originally from New Delhi.
View all posts by Shalini Kathuria Narang