Oh no! Not again

Like every one else, I too am averse to certain things. The list is not very long, for by nature I am quite adjusting. But yes one thing, for which I have not been able to develop any fascination, is being having to go through the ordeal of watching a family photograph album. Its very mention is unnerving; its implementation is simply disastrous.

Like the other day, my good friend Anand invited me over for drinks. It all started very well, and would have certainly ended on the same note, had the beverage not had the better of him.

"You are the only friend with whom I have shared my secret," said he, in a bit of emotional tone. But that was momentary. He immediately cheered up and said, "Now let me give you a rare chance to peep into my past," so saying he vanished from the sitting room to some invisible chamber. He shortly emerged, carrying a thick photo album with him.

"See, this is me, when I was two. It's my mother who is holding me. My dad is on the left, and of course the dog in front...Oh how I miss him. He is Juno. He died just four days after my mother died. My father died after four years of my mother's death... so it is history that I am showing you." History indeed it was! The only surviving member of that lost clan was right next to me; the rest were only expressionless imprints.

"Now this snap you must see..." he remarked emphatically. "Here, this boy with glasses," he said, pointing his fingers at one intellectual looking face, is my friend Ronny, the boy next to him on the right is his friend Bobby and the boy on the right of Ronny is Bobby's friend Rajiv. The two boys behind them are..." and the introduction of the unknown and least interesting faces continued with quite some precision. Their heights, habits, weight, likes, dislikes etc were all served to me on one platter.

"Now friend," he said with a deep sigh, "this group photograph is rare; rare because it is a group photo of the time when we had just been conferred our Masters' degree," and before me was presented another piece of antiquity from which peered at me scores of alien faces, as if I was an intruder.

History

However I was saved the pain of listening to the history of the 23 unknown faces by sheer chance. Suddenly the door bell rang. "Excuse me," said my friend, as he got up. Taking it as a god sent opportunity I asked him to excuse me too as I had to make some purchases.

The second agonising experience was when my sister-in-law one day insisted that I see how Priya (my wife) looked when she was 12. Well I had no objection to that. There was no harm in coming to know what my wife looked 26 years ago. However, it never struck me that going back so many years meant having to come across the entire family plantation of that period, if not the family tree.

"See this is how sister looked before she got her hair cut... the lady next to her is the hairdresser... oh yes! The girl in blue frock is our neighbour... from friends to friends-turned foes, none was left.

I was more engrossed in counting the number of pages decreasing than in what was being revealed. She however abruptly stopped, looked at me, and asked, "Did I show you our grand mother's photo?" And before waiting for a reply she continued, "My! She was a darling of all of us; let me show you how she looked when she had all her teeth intact and the other being that of her being without them." So saying she turned back more than a dozen pages, with a care that would put archeologist's to shame.

"Oh no! Not again.", was the only whisper that escaped my lips before I sank into a sea of despondency.

Vimal Yogi Tiwari is a journalist based in India.