I was cleaning my cluttered desk and found the document beneath a pile of papers

'Can you make it a little faster? They will be here anytime.' My husband was running around the household fuzzily. He was moving the damaged cardboard boxes outside to dump them and create more space for storage. Our humble double-bedroom house is a chicken coop filled with love that is otherwise clumsy and disorganised. Papers and notebooks occupying the desk, books falling out of space from the shelf, clothes dumped on chairs and sofa and strands of my hair dancing around the floor - that's how a regular household where a working couple live without a domestic help would look like, and I have never regretted it. The extensive cleaning day happens once every week, and decluttering is reserved for times when there is an anticipated visitor.  

'Yes, yes. I am doing my best. It will be done in a few minutes. You just wait and watch.' I tested his patience by wantedly doing things my way, and he nodded his head in resentment. His long-distance relatives were visiting us for the first time after our marriage, and we wanted to make an impression on them. I was working too hard by throwing out unwanted papers and receipts, expired coupons, travel tickets from years ago, notes from the hospital with ward handover details and much more. 

I was sincerely carrying out the task I was given, and that was when it caught my eye - a small notebook the size of my hand, sky blue in colour, depicting a cloudless evening sky photographed from below the branches of a tree. The leaves were mahogany with a tint of golden yellow strewn with black mottled dots. I knew what it was and what it meant to me, but I had no idea what it was doing beneath the dump for years. The notebook was from my school days, and I recognised it with just one look. 

Those pages were my only vent out and creative space during my teenage years that I had carefully preserved against all calamities. It must have come along with all my books and notes that I had shifted to my marital house long ago. I turned the hardcover, and on the first page was my name written in a font that seemed like an attempt to mimic italics, and below was a caption saying, 'To save one human life is to save an entire humankind; to harm one human life is to harm the entire humankind' - Al Quran 5:32. I was proud that I had written such a powerful verse even when I didn't know the depth behind those words.

I looked around to see if my husband noticed me getting too comfortable at my spot and kept moving through the pages slowly. He was then heading towards the gate with his two-wheeler key, and I understood he was out to procure snacks and beverages for the guests. He had already cleared off the bedroom portion, and the kitchen that was allotted for him, and the hall and the other bedroom were waiting patiently for my turn. After he left, I squatted down on the floor with junk in my lap, promising to finish scanning it soon and return to work.

As I swiftly brushed through the old brown, withered papers, I saw a page studded with stickers and hearts around a poem I wrote many years ago. I ran my fingers over it while reading the lines and still felt the same as when I wrote it. It sounded amateur, for sure, but the hidden emotions remained the same. And then there were pages and pages of writings, scribblings, doodles, essays and more. The note had no unwritten page on it, and reading those lines felt nostalgic. The end pages started thinning out, and the last page of the book carried a line written and highlighted by me over and over again. 'Write like it matters and one day it will' is probably a quote from the internet that I felt was inspiring. And even as I was reading it, I felt a surge of emotions taking over me. Probably, that was the very intention with which I might have noted it down - to motivate myself every time in the future when I look at it.

I reminisced about my olden days - how passionately writing ran in my mind and how little I am able to do it today. I sighed and promised myself to write every day and more than ever. I dusted the cover of the note and placed it inside the folder that was marked 'important' when I spotted my husband through the front door.

'What on earth are you doing? You haven't moved an inch since I left.' He was shocked and probably a bit frustrated, too. He dumped the shopping bag on the table and pinched his forehead while shaking it sideways. I stumbled and knocked myself out of my dreamy world, forcing my face towards the wall clock. 'Oh no!' I yelled to myself. It's been a couple of hours, and they were already there - the elderly couple standing behind my husband, smiling at me suspiciously with their eyebrows raised and their eyes scanning the horrid mess around.

#penbooksandscalpel

This post is a part of Blogchatter’s #Bloghop