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I was in the living room when I saw a plush bear in one of the shelves. The bear was familiar, even if its tiny head hides away from plain sight. The soft toy was small, enough to snugly fit inside my hand. It was left there for some reasons, dusting, neglected, almost done for after faithfully guarding the crib of its once infant owner.
At first, I didn't pay the toy much attention as I was trying to renew those hindered family ties because of the project. But when I realized that it was Baby Lenin's. And that it was bound to "go missing" should it remain there, I instinctively shoved the bear until it fell into my bag. Might as well adopt the little fella until someone finds it, takes it back, and perhaps put it in its rightful place.
Inside the children's cabinet.
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I lost my house keys last week.
My guess is that I dropped it while commuting to work. Another hunch is that it got lost at the gym's locker room while changing into my workout gear. Whatever my suspicions, the keys won't be coming back.
A duplicate is needed.
So when my mom handed over the new key, the first thing I did was to look for a key chain to complement it. I could have picked the souvenirs - one of those 'chains bought as pasalubong from another country. But my eyes were fixed on that plush monkey dangling from its hook. Without thinking twice, I took the key chain, slid my replacement key into the circular lock, and dropped the anointed monkey where it now belongs:
Inside my bag.
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When I ask myself the reason for including those plush toys among my personal effects, I honestly find myself lost for words. It must have been for comic relief - something to remind me to smile on the road. It must have been for its cuteness - something which leaves a warm and fuzzy feeling on damp nights like while writing these last few paragraphs inside a moving jeep.
Whatever the reason, it must have been something profound. Sublime. All I know is that after putting the monkey and the bear at the helm of my bag, it feels like carrying a part of my childhood wherever my feet go.
Whatever the reason, it must have been something profound. Sublime. All I know is that after putting the monkey and the bear at the helm of my bag, it feels like carrying a part of my childhood wherever my feet go.
*for some reasons, I forgot to give names to the new lords of my bag. weird.