Memories

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The Instagram Project: Lens and Piston

Lens And Piston( @lensandpiston ) One of the early memories Fayaz recalls from his childhood is of him crawling under a Maruti Gypsy. He viewed the underbody of the Gypsy with as much fascination as someone seeing the stars in Milky Way for the first time. “It runs in the family,” Fayaz said “the love for automobiles.” With time the toddler’s fascination grew. He identified cars by its bumpers before he could count numbers. Fast forward a few years, the teenage Fayaz pined after bikes his father couldn’t afford. Undeterred, he saved up for his first bike, doing odd jobs. He bought his first bike, a Yamaha YBX 125 in his second year of Engineering. The depth of love and pride he felt for his hard-earned bike knew no bounds. If he could cuddle it in his sleep, he would have. But in his final year of college, the trend of owning a Royal Enfield Classic gripped Fayaz, just like everyone else. Everywhere he turned the exhaustive sound of the Bullet bikes followed him like a gh...
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Time-lapse

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First aid box in my home is a small-mouthed tin with a wide assortment of things inside it, from cotton balls, band-aids, Dettol, to abandoned hairclips widened beyond use, bobby pins unearthed from other dimensions..a myriad of things had found a home in our first aid box. One day as I was rummaging inside it for a band-aid, something red and translucent caught my eye and I fished out my old wristwatch from amidst the clutter.  Memories of my childhood clouded my senses and I was transported back in time. Back in the days, owning a wristwatch was like being inducted into “I am intelligent and mature enough to tell my time” hall of fame. My cousin had bought back this red translucent strapped watch as a gift from the United States where she had visited Disneyland. The dial of the watch had Minnie mouse with her hand clasped as if in a sigh, smitten with Mickey, who if you would have it, was the second's hand. Mickey was this small heart-shaped second-hand orbiting the love ...
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Chaos of the unseen frontier

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(With quotes from Fathima Ashgar ’s “ If they come for us”) Remember those thick chunky social science textbooks we used to study? The history textbooks taught us about Indian history, sacrifices, massacres, the  non-violence  movements. However, there was a less taught topic, an anticlimax to Nehru’s dream of Unified India, the Partition.    I checked with my friends to  see if I alone was oblivious to the monstrosity of this mass migration. And truth be told , they too had only a little knowledge about this.    I  realized  the grotesqueness of this massacre especially when I read these lines from Fatima   Ashgar ’s  poem, “If they come for us”   1947: The cannons sound during    Ramzan and everyone hold their breath   To find who survived.  Laylat   Al  Qadar   Births two nations.   No one knows the boundaries   Bodies spoon like comm...
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