Time to go...

How does one pack away 23 years of possessions into two or three suitcases with a Damocles sword of 57kg hanging above? I sift through the old letters exchanged with school-mates who I now stay in touch with on Orkut and marvel at the effort we actually put in to stay a part of each other's lives. I come across a letter I once wrote to Bill Clinton, filled with idealistic fervor and I read it now and laugh at myself and yet I can't get myself to throw it away. I look at all the old photographs, me with my virgin mustache, old friends, women I once desired, family and so much more.How does one decide between a Calvin and a Rushdie- I do not want to leave either behind. Infact I do not want to leave any of my books behind because there is a story behind each one- whether it is the Art of Innovation which Sampy asked us to read which made us realise the tremendous potential of design or whether it is the Collected Plays of Neil Simon which will remind me forever of my time at evam. But I know as I caress them one last time, that they will have to be left behind.I know I will miss my king-sized bathroom and the times I have spent ruminating there. I pull out a dusty and worn away book which I recognize to be my choir book in school and tell myself that this I will take with me.

All these are just the material possessions I will miss. I do not want to get started with the people.How does one pack away 23 years of possessions into two or three suitcases? How?