Pink rubbery plastic outer shell. With a cute Tweety printed on it.
Dimensions an inch by an inch. Thickness of a centimeter.
It was a miniature diary keychain. The pages were ruled, colored pages in shades of pearl pink.
It was, now that I think over it, outlandish, outrageously bold in color, and perhaps a bit cheap to look at. But at eighteen, love happens for the most ridiculous of reasons.
The minute I the saw woman selling keychains on the local train, I had been interested. Keychains were the latest fad among college goers and even i aspired to have something unique. Fifteen minutes later, after a lot of haggling [twenty bucks for a keychain was too much. So, I bought four for fifty 🙂 ] and carefully feigned disinterest, I had the object of my desire in my hand.
Two glorious months passed. I used to proudly display my precious keychain everywhere and strut about with it everyplace. It had won me covetous Glances and had been a trusted conversation starter.
I gloated over it everyday, hugging myself for having something so cute and pretty. I pored over ideas of what to store in it, inspirational quotes, signatures of friends, dates of memorable events without finalizing on any one. I wanted the content of that little notebook keychain to be just as worthy as itself. In those two months, all I has inscribed was my own name in a beautiful font – an effort of humongous proportions considering my atrocious handwriting.
And then one day, I lost it. It just disappeared. Sure, I carefully guarded it, checked its swinging form every now and then. But somehow, I misplaced it. To this day, I have no clue where I dropped it.
It was torture. I looked for it high and low but to no avail. I was so disappointed. I sulked for a whole week, was grumpy, irritable and unhappy. Eight days after what seemed like an irreparable loss, I travelled in the same train. And there I saw it. A metal gray cannon keychain, two inches long. With gleaming wheels and a superior finish, its inch long barrel unscrewed to a tiny pen. It was adorable, unique and I knew I had to own it.
As I cradled my new baby in my hands, my lost keychain flashed before me. Suddenly life’s truths came spinning before me.
Don’t lay too much store in inanimate objects. No matter how much you love it, it can’t love you back.
If you like something, strive to get it. Once you have it, enjoy it. Savor the satisfaction of possession.
Live life in the present.
Things come and go, accept it.
Don’t wait to have fun.
And with that Eureka moment, I opened the keychain and started writing. 🙂