Rewinding the reel....

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It was only yesterday. Or was it ? Memories came thick and fast. Some vivid, some hazy. Like smoke; only to fade away into thin air. Memories disappeared and yet were present somewhere in the background.

Boredom does strange things to people. It revived the nostalgia for us. In a fit of boredom and in the lap of an empty nest, my husband and I viewed our marriage videocassette after two decades. Even though it was converted into a CD by our son, we had restrained from viewing it. Why, I am not sure. Perhaps due to an unfortunate incident which followed our marriage. So when the husband said, "It will be an adventure, lets hold hands and watch the CD together," I was game.

I prefer to close doors on bad memories or shove them under a veil of assumed amnesia. My husband however, believes that suffering and pain are healers. If they are dealt with effectively, they cleanse our subconscious and make us happy. No wonder he enjoys listening to ‘sad songs' by Rafi,. Yes, even when all is well and the sun is shining brightly. It makes him happy. How, I don’t know. I however, do not prescribe to his philosophy and avoid going down those painful lanes.

Even though I had viewed our marriage photographs taken with the Fuji camera several times, watching the marriage proceedings in action was an emotional roller coaster. It evoked countless memories. If you’re a woman, then the first thing you notice in your old picture is your appearance. Given a choice, I would never wear the same heavy dress which did nothing to accentuate the figure of a young bride. The next shocker was the make-up! It was hardly there. And whatever was there was 'puraane zamaane ka'. My two aunts had painstakingly festooned my forehead with multicolored dots. And the huge nose ring? I could have walked straight out of Jodha Akbar’s set. Arghh…it had hurt so much. Not to mention the crimson shade my nose had acquired.

Immediately after the self-flagellation, I embarked on a self- admiration soiree. The kohl lined almonds with thick lashes sans mascara looked mesmerizing. Why do eyes shrink with age? Damn, the wrinkles! Why do they have to show up uninvited? Why doesn’t the waist-line retain its slender glory? The ravages of time are unsparing.
It was amusing to watch my friends and cousins fussing around me, hovering like mother hens. Why the fuss? I was perfectly confident of holding my twenty kg lehnga on a forty five kg frame. Then I started recalling old acquaintances, “Did you see her? She was my college friend? Did you see that uncle? He was our neighbor.” I felt my throat tighten instinctively as I saw my grandmother sitting pristine in white, watching all the proceedings without a hint of tiredness. Also, I couldn’t help but ache as I noticed that in a matter of two decades my own mother has aged considerably. In the pictures she appeared gorgeous, nattily managing the guests in her stilettos. And only yesterday, she was complaining of knee pain.

Then I saw my smiling dad welcoming the baaratis. Promptly my eyes welled-up and a stab of pain went down the heart. Why do people leave never to return? Not even once! Just for that warm reassuring hug? Watching him on the television in that moment, I could almost picture him entering my living room and caressing my head.

From the corner of my moist eyes, I noticed that my husband was looking at his own father rather wistfully. “You are lucky”, he said. “You have your mother; I lost both of them.” In the pictures on television however, the groom dressed in a white achkan was laughing and jesting with his office colleagues. He was beaming and appeared happy enough for the entire state of Delhi. Why doesn’t he laugh as often? But then, who am I to complain. Even I don’t giggle anymore.

We suddenly fell into silence. To lighten the mood the husband playfully remarked, “It was such an important event. Why wasn’t our son present at our wedding?’
“If he was there that day, perhaps you wouldn’t have agreed to marry me in the first place.”
And we both laughed.