The Creaking Chair - Part XII

28^th May 1999

I have an abnormally large collection of photographs

moments I have captured over years

and I use them as mirrors to keep me grounded on a plane of simplicity

so my pictures are not the regular friends laughing in a pub kinds

or teens banging their heads in a rock concert

or even the quintessential birthday party as a kid

with the lettered cut out on the wall calling out ‘Happy Birthday’ 

and the beaming smiles of friends behind the cake & the Birthday Boy.

My collection has a rather abstract view of life

A fallen eyelash resting on a copper pooja thali;

the queer expression of a rebelling atheist

An aimless braided chair sitting idle on a sunny day with a hint of cloud in the background;

the untainted memory of a peaceful afternoon embossed upon the mind 

A rope line with my mother’s freshly washed saree hung for drying

the untarnished smell of unfiltered warmth spreading through the heart

A shuttered public library with the leftover ashes of a burning sigri

the aftermath of another cold night in the open for the watchman

But the one photograph which made me write this entry today

was the photograph of my beloved coleus plant 

It was a housewarming gift from a dear colleague when I moved to Kolkata

Placed in a fish bowl shaped casing it had layered soil and tiny crystal like rocks on one side

the plant nestled nicely in the middle of this boundary between the decorative crystal patch & the underlying soil 

there was another smaller budding offshoot on the other side 

I liked the gift – it was good, but I did not love the life in it, yet

And then a few weeks later, I saw tiny new shoots on it

beautiful red leaves with spreading green on its corners 

Oh boy, that was a feeling difficult to match

an untainted adoration and pure love spreading like a smile on my face 

and for the next few weeks, every morning it was my first ritual to watch the new bud & smile 

This was my first experience with the weight of responsibility of nurturing a life 

But the photograph was not of that little bud

the photograph had to be inanimate right? 

if you have not yet caught the recurring theme in my photographs

It was a black and white shot of the same bowl with a fallen plant with shriveled leaves 

In my youthful zeal filled with an arrogant ignorance 

I kept feeding water & sunlight to it – at times too much water & too less of sunlight 

without realizing the underlying build up of tiny root eating aphids

the day I look the photograph, I realized they were too far in their act of weakening the roots 

I did replace the plant with another 

and this time took much better care 

for I was now prepared and a little bit more wiser 

But I miss that original plant for it gave me my love for gardening

~ Ashk

P.S. – Sahil has taken up to ‘digitizing’ my photographs as his project this summer vacations. I have a feeling I have a summer filled with walks down the untrodden memory lanes & loads of stories to tell. 

P.P.S. – Maybe I should convert these stories into something like ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’.

For the complete series, visit - http://www.ashksymphony.com/p/the-creaking-chair.html