W is for The Wedding Album #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the last week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

Today, I'm looking at my wedding album with Ichigo Ichie eyes. 

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

Story Water

A story is like water

that you heat for your bath.

It takes messages between the fire

and your skin. It lets them meet,

and it cleans you!

...

Water, stories, the body,

all the things we do, are mediums

that hide and show what's hidden.

Study them,

and enjoy this being washed

with a secret we sometimes know,

and then not.

Above is part of a poem borrowed from The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks.

The Wedding Album

Bound in blue, it lives 

inside a bag of cloth lying

at the back of my wardrobe.

I open it rarely but whenever I do,

It pulls me in.

The wardrobe's sliding doors 

don't come in the way

of my entry into Narnia of that one sunny yesterday--

my wedding day.

Snapshots of happy, sad moments are glued on thick snowy pages:

on the verge of showing signs of wear 

and going yellow at the edges.

Smiles, tears, flowers, sindoor

lie frozen behind plastic doors.

I sit on the bedroom floor holding 

Einstein's theory of relativity.

The windows of a train he'd mentioned 

are stuck in an album bound in blue.

Bitter-sweet moments zoom past fast 

escaping the wardrobe through and through.

In a whirlpool of time, like Alice I slide

down 

into my present, future and past.

Marriage seeds sown for new lovers

who'll meet,

And some happily ever-afters that will split.

Children yet to be born.

Parents, grandparents that will soon be gone

leaving behind stories

rippling

in waters of memories to be reflected upon.

Bubbles of things that were left unsaid

and the love that should've been shown

will burst and form again and again

as every page is turned.

Vacant looks in Beji's eyes

will bloom into Alzheimer's plight.

She'll forget me soon after the wedding.

It won't matter if I visit her: I'll justify my busy life for me.

 

Twenty-six years of life

sit caught and bound

in an orange and gold bag of cloth

at the back of my wardrobe.

The pale pink heirloom, his family gave me,

brings me back in time.

I look at it--gota-patti running in fine Punjabi design.

Jasmine, henna, his eyes, his 'you look beautiful,' 

will continue to shine

my everyday, ordinary and that Mr. Einstein

is how I understand

relativity of Time.

The pale pink scarf with gota-patti

Our wedding album has seen more light in the past one year than at any other time in the past two decades. I reckon, the sequestering (at least for me) is making me more nostalgic, not just for the recent past but for the past, past as well.

What about you? Have you picked up an old album recently?

Are you the keeper of a family heirloom?

You know I'd love to hear, if you'd like to share.

Leaving you with this very short video. I think you'll love it as much as I do. It's 'a snapshot of an ancient past captured in time.'

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com