Today is Day 4 in Writing 101 and the prompt is Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more. If this isn’t hard enough, there is a twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.

So what is a serial post about ? Obviously something that is a recurring theme but what do I write about something that is lost?  And something that is lost repeatedly?  That really set me thinking , almost the whole day and I realised that I don’t have to find something grand or dramatic to talk about. It doesn’t have to be life changing or earth shattering. It could be a simple thing like losing an object of no real consequence such as a pencil.

Most people will laugh when I say I’ve always been careful of my things. My mother definitely will as will my husband and children and all those who know me well.  One look at my messy cupboard or my dazed look when somebody asks me where something is kept immediately bears out this fact that I am not particular about keeping things properly. However, just because I can’t tell you that the letter to the society is filed in the yellow file kept in the right hand drawer of my desk, doesn’t mean I have no clue of where things are or that I’m careless.  My messy cupboard and my messy handbag don’t shout out my neatness or my fastidiousness in keeping things well either , but strange as it may sound, I have some kind of method in my messiness and know exactly where everything is, or rather should be.

Last December I received a sari – a blue silk sari in  jewel tones of turquoise and indigo woven together with a green thread that tied them both together to make  a stunning six yards of horizontal stripes bordered with a deep brick red band. It was dramatic in its simplicity and  I looked forward to wearing it and immediately gave the tailor the fabric for the blouse and warning him not to take his time over it as he normally did. Indeed, I was surprised that he listened to me and actually brought the blouse and the sari, its edges neatly finished with fine machine picot within the week! I quickly kept it away, on top of the pile of saris in my cupboard so that I would remember to wear it for the next important occasion.

The occasion presented itself soon enough and after taking out the jewelry to match, I went for my shower before getting dressed. I came out of the shower and went straight to the cupboard to take out the sari. Imagine my shock when I found it missing! Where could it be?

Did I really keep it back in the cupboard? Or was it still at the tailors? Or did I not get it back from the laundry where I had given it for a final pressing? I looked through all the drawers and even checked the linen cupboard. I checked in my girls’ room in case I’d kept it there by mistake.

I checked my diary to see when I had paid the tailor and the laundry. Obviously the sari was back in the house, but where was it?

I asked my mother-in-law if she’d kept it in her cupboard by mistake. She asked me to check her saris too.

By now I was getting frantic. Not only was I getting late for the function but I was worried about losing the sari. All through the evening I was distracted, trying to dig into the memories at bottom of my head , trying to figure out where the sari could be.

Could a sari walk out of a house?