The photo album stores the history of my life,
Every page is the mirror of bygone days,
The reflections in the mirror brings memories alive,
The memories which beam me magically in the world of my choice. A first few pages of my album are blank,
As a little kid I did not want to stand in front of a box with a man in black hood,
I did not want to be seen upside down in his view finder,
I was
happier playing soccer somewhere else in the nearby play ground. The b & w family portrait of me, my siblings and my parents is my prize possession,
It was a rare event when we all could gather and pose for a moment,
Now some are grown up, some have left our midst,
The glimpse of all of us together brings the emotions of close family ties. As I turn the pages of my album,
I see happiness radiating from every picture,
May it be a smile of a family member or mine,
Or it may be the beauty of the nature smiling at me,
Every picture brings a memory flashback,
of the joys and emotions of important events in my life. Next my eyes get glued on my personal family picture,
My wife radiating with her beautiful smile,
My kids little scared of the dark studio set,
Me grinning with smile of worth thousand words. It is picture which remains in my heart and wallet,
It is a picture which brings joy, love and affection to me every minute. I guess no one ever keeps the pictures of death and agony,
It is hard to see the cremation picture of departed love,
It seems as if my heart is turning into ashes,
The pain and agony of this scene is so much,
The book of album closes by itself.
