Jar of Things

I'm a clear glass jar. When you brought me home, I was full of sweet, flavourful strawberry jam. When the last of the jam had been scraped out and finished, I thought my fate was sealed. I would be trash. However, like many Indian homes, you decided to keep me, and just like that, you saved my life. Ah! Sustainability and reuse!

However, I feel like a nomad. One day, I’m sitting on your kitchen shelf, filled with some aromatic masala; the next, I’m chilling in your fridge full of homemade hummus or letting your oats have a good overnight soak. Then I find myself in your closet in a piggy bank avatar. Who am I? I’m suffering from a full-blown identity crisis.

Then I get pushed to the back of beyond for months, lost and forgotten, and suddenly, when you’re on a cleaning mission, you rediscover me and hug me like a long-lost friend and give me prime importance in your kitchen. 

On the kitchen shelf, when I'm labelled neatly, I feel important and organised. Without a label, I feel disoriented and am left guessing like you. You expect chilli powder, but it's 'bottle masala' (your signature community masala). They share the same fiery red hue. I watch you and say to myself, "Well, it's not my fault." You keep me away from the reach of the kids. I’ve heard you hiss, “Be careful," more times than I can count.

I like being useful. I don’t complain, even when I’m empty. I know I will be filled.

I may be simple and transparent, but I hold things that are important to you, and that makes me happy. 

Is there an object in your home that follows the same fate as the jar?

 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z 2026 challenge