THE ALMIRAH REMEMBERS

 THE ALMIRAH REMEMBERS

There comes a strange day in a woman’s life when she opens her almirah not to choose what to wear… but to decide what to let go.

And suddenly, decluttering becomes an unexpected journey through time.

A saree you haven't worn in years. A blouse that belongs to a younger body.

A dupatta from a festival you barely remember. And then—the bangles. Red. Green. Pink.

Purple. Yellow. Blue. Every possible colour. Stacked together, still carrying the faint sound of the woman who once wore them. Then come the bindis. Bright little circles of colour that once sat proudly on your forehead. Hair clips. Ribbons. Scrunchies. Decorative pins. Tiny accessories you bought because they were pretty…because you were pretty…because you once had the time and inclination to fuss over yourself.

You hold them in your hand. And wonder—When did I stop wearing these? There was no announcement. No particular morning when you decided, “I am done with colours.” Life simply happened. Responsibilities happened. Children happened. Work happened. Age happened.

Somewhere along the way, bright bangles were replaced by a watch. Bindis became occasional.

Hair accessories became unnecessary. And the woman who once stood before the mirror deciding which colour matched her mood…began dressing according to what the day demanded.

So you make three piles: Keep. Donate. Discard.

But how do you put memories into piles? How do you throw away the little red bangles you wore on that special day? How do you discard a hair clip that has held your hair together through countless mornings? How do you donate a version of yourself? Perhaps that is why decluttering an almirah can make you unexpectedly emotional. You aren't really cleaning a cupboard.

You are clearing the shelves of your former selves.

The girl. The bride. The young mother. The working woman. The woman who tried so hard to be everything to everyone. And now… perhaps there is another woman standing quietly in front of the mirror. Older. Softer. Wiser. Less interested in matching everything. More interested in belonging to herself. 

So maybe I won't throw away every bangle. Maybe I'll keep a few colours.

Not because I will necessarily wear them again…but because I want to remember the woman who did. 

Because growing older shouldn't mean erasing who we were. It should mean making peace with every woman I have been. 

And perhaps one day, when I open that almirah again, I won't see things that have “gone.” I'll see evidence. Evidence that I laughed. Celebrated. Loved.

Dressed up. Dreamed. Raised children. Built a life. And became someone new.

The colours may have faded from my almirah. The bindis may have disappeared from my forehead. The bangles may no longer circle my wrists. But somewhere beneath all those layers of life…that colourful woman is still here. 

She was never lost.

She was simply waiting for me to find her again.

— Juju’s Pearls.

"Sometimes, decluttering isn't about throwing things away.
Sometimes, it's about discovering what—and who—you still want to keep."