Objects of Memory
My Pandora's box :
“We take photos as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.”
As we were growing up, and ransacking through the row of events and life achievements we’ve created for ourselves, we didn’t realise that we were making memories, in that moment we knew we were having fun, and wanted to be, where we were at the time of being, with the people and objects. Objects, act as that transitional time machine, which manage to transport us from the present into past, connecting us to all our thoughts and hopes and wishes, we dreamt of in those yonder years. And time after time we forget, how important these objects are to another.I still own this keychain my grandfather had gifted me when I was a little girl. Its an eiffel tower keychain made of german silver. Ever since I first got it, I have never used the key chain for its main purpose, rather have kept it locked up in the chest of drawers, hoping it will remain safe and untarnished, for infinity. Today, my grandfather is no more, but that keychain still remains and the memories I’ve had with him, the fights, the play dates and all those trips to park are still captured within it and keeps coming back in flashbacks even today; And, I don’t think I’ll ever take it out of my hiding place, with the fear of getting lost.
“Memories are the architects of our identity”
There are many such objects that I hold myself to, far more precious and unique than gold and silver, or any jewel in the world. For example, that pen my mother gifted on my sixteenth christmas, or my iPod, the only one I’ve had ever since I was fourteen, or that silver chain with my initials, that my best friend had gifted on my eighteenth birthday, These are objects that comprise my past present and future. People, find other ways of holding on to memory of a place or person or things— like,our grandparents have more unique ways of storing memories by putting up a show of the decades that have gone by, on the wall— and every time we look it, we cringe and blush at those silly times, we’ll never forget in hundred years. Or that our mother still hold onto your childhood clothes, and look at them once in a while, remembering the toddler days. Or that your father see’s you as a four year old, parading down the halls, no matter how ancient you think you are really.Objects really, have no time place or reason for being there, they just constitute within our surroundings and place themselves like props to the: “play called life” And, us humans, have some unknown reasons of clinging on to them, no matter how painful or unreasonable they can be. For some objects are memories, and simply articles to another.
- Esha Basu
KEYCHAIN:
Every day , every hour is a memory. Most of the memories remain for a short period of time and gradually become vague and fade away. But, only a few remain with us forever. These are the ones we attach value and meaning to. They support us with the power of solace and we get diverted and traverse a different trajectory altogether when we recall them. These memories that we deliberately wish to keep with us and embrace at all times, and even those that force themselves to stay and refuse to leave, are infact the most influential ones. They have played a major role in shaping the way you perceive the world. They are the home page of the lessons learnt, embedded in your mind- the space that extends infinitely and embraces every little thing you learn.
I carry many memories with me, in a tangible form- keychains. There are three keychains comprising of all the keys I own. The first being a keychain from Rajasthan which I had bought after throwing endless tantrums when I was 5 years old. After I chose to simply abandon it and look for a new toy, my mother guarded it and made sure no one used it. She gifted this priceless toy of mine, to me, on daughters day when I turned sweet sixteen. This keychain always reminds me of my mother and inspires me to be the classy and a woman of high quality and standards that she is. The second is a keychain comprising of my picture alongside my best friend. She gifted it to me when we parted after two years of staying in a hostel and she said, “I am always with you. Call me anytime, especially if there’s a problem okay? OKAY. We’ll sort things out like always.” She has changed me as a person-made me much more sensitive to my surroundings and to the people I’m surrounded with. She made me less gullible. She taught me to fight. She taught me to cope. The image of this keychain always comes to my mind when I’m in any kind of trouble. I wonder, what would have she done if I was her? Almost always I get my answer and I act accordingly. We communicate even though we do not do it literally. The third keychain is the one I bought when I was enjoying my last day in Dubai- the place where I have stayed for majority of the years. It only reminds me of how I have changed over the years- in a good sense. It makes me feel good about myself. It makes me introspect and complemplate.
These keychains are a world in itself – THAT BUNCH. What you do, reinforces where you stand. And, where you stand is your home. Similarly, what do these keychains do? They form one of the strongest support systems I own. I attach utmost value to them. So, where do they stand? In my heart. That’s their home. I carry another home within me, besides my own. Even objects have a certain place where they stand. And, as such the amount of value we attach to them also differs.
- Parina Dhruve
Objects That Evoke The Sense Of Home
My Sweatshirt :
Objects that surround us daily are primarily, present due to two reasons - as necessities , needs, etc. or those that we cherish. These two often overlap and interchange due to the only constant in our lives - change. The inanimate have a strange way of living and breathing amongst and within us .Assigning meaning to them, attaching ourselves to them , we increase their worth ,giving them life. Sometimes we attach ourselves to some objects so deeply that we allow them to carve a niche for themselves in our hearts and thus we carry them around everywhere. From this stems the possessiveness regarding these objects . It doesn't need to be a family heirloom to be as special , it can be your chair at the family dining table, your bedroom or something smaller like a hairpin, a photograph, etc.
For me , one such object and subject of my affection is a faded black sweatshirt. It used to belong to one of my cousin sisters and then my brother and is now mine. I don't have any particular emotional connect or specific memory related to it except that it always reminds me of its previous owners (my cousins) and what it was like growing up with them and where it all happened - home. I don't always get nostalgic or go down memory lane each time I wear it but it acts like a port key to home.
- Ria Patel
Nani's Ouilt
-Archana Bilgi
SOFT.WARM.COZY. these are not enough to describe about how my quilt is significant part of my life. The quilt which I still use every night has been a protector for me from cold nights of Bangalore or even the windy fan that my roommate refuses to slow down. It also helps me to get into my own space where I don’t need to see the outside world when I am not in mood. My Nani, who technically is my mother’s aunt used to make these quilts for her every grandchild. She used to use her worn out cotton saris to make quilts. In every summer holidays during the nights I used to sleep beside my Nani. The smell of her warm and tender sari which reminded me of sweet milk immediately used to get me to sleep. I vividly remember the smell of her sari which used to get passed on to the quilt as well. I never really realized why that quilt was so important to me but since childhood I always had felt the need to have it when I was about to go to sleep. It brings almost every memory of my hometown and the people who no longer live there. I feel secure by having it near me and as if someone is always there whom I can hold on to as tight as I can. The quilt is home for me as it helps me to shun away the outer world and tuck myself under the print through which the tiny light seeps through creating a whole mesmerizing tiny world which is home for me.