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In my wooden table drawer, I still have a few old erasers and broken pencils from my primary and middle school days. I've kept them as mementos to reminisce about my childhood. Back then, I had a habit of stealing pencils and erasers from my classmates, even though my parents provided me with plenty. I was a compulsive thief, and my classmates would often complain to our teacher, who would scold me and sometimes spank me with a ruler. Despite the punishment, I continued stealing; as the saying goes, 'old habits die hard.'
This classroom shenanigan reached my parents through the driver of our school van. My mother made it a point to check my school bag every day and would sometimes discover stolen stationery in my school bag. She would admonish me, but I couldn't resist the thrill of theft.
I'm not sure if I had kleptomania, a condition said to affect some members of the British royal family. Since I was not a member of the royal family or anywhere close to it, I could not give myself the benefit of the 'royal' diagnosis.
Back in the 1970s, there were news reports that some precious artefacts were found missing from the official residence of a constitutional functionary after he vacated. Our law professor once commented that if the rich steal, it's called kleptomania, but if the poor do the same, it's just plain theft.
However, thankfully, I outgrew this loathsome habit of stealing when I entered high school. Looking back, I realise that coveting what others have is a natural human tendency. We often desire what our relatives, friends, or neighbours possess. May be they also covet what we have. And some people may resort to unethical means to acquire what one does not possess.
Sometimes, the temptation to own what others have overcomes some of us, even if we have equally good or even better things than others' possessions. However, feeling content with what we have and not coveting others' possessions is crucial for a stress-free life, and I am thankful I learnt the lesson early in my life.
The pieces of erasers and pencils I have even today in the drawer of my wooden table not only remind me of my childhood escapades, my friends—and their present whereabouts and how many of them are still in the reckoning—my teachers, parents, the love and affection they showered on me, as well as the life's lessons that I have learnt over a period of over six decades. They serve as a nostalgic reminder of my journey and the importance of being content with what I have.