a Haibun on mom’s old photograph
Today, Maa sent me a photograph on WhatsApp. A black and white family photograph. Charmingly beautiful. How magnificent this has endured the passage of time and stayed so close to the original? Proper aging you may say. There’s a kid there, of eight or nine, happily staring towards the camera.
an old photograph
ignites many memories,
re-creates lost bonds.
Yes, that’s my mother. Childlike innocence laced on her face. Seeing my mother as a kid, my lips smiled subconsciously. I was transported suddenly to that era, probably thinking about how her childhood might have been shaped. So different from mine, the surroundings, everything might have been so different. What was going on in her mind? To play with her little sister and her big brother as soon as the picture-taking session gets over, or to climb a tree to bring down the mangoes? Did she know that many, many years later, this photograph would act as a bridge and her son would flow back in time? To her era? With her people? Imagining himself standing somewhere in that photograph?
an old photograph connects,
past with the present.
Haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diaries, essays, prose poems, short stories, or travel journals.
Thank you Tre, for sheltering a lot of my poems, here!