Whosoever said this knew what (s)he is talking about. Many of us treasure photographs, especially the older ones. For obvious reason — memories. Memories that can bring joy on our faces in the midst of despair, memories that can instill hope in us when we’re heartbroken. This photograph is one such photo of my bro and I. Of course, I am the one in that pretty blue-and-white frock, and my dear bewildered bro is beside me in black.
Even though we are not Christians, we used to love Christmas time. Every evening, starting from Christmas until New Year Eve, my poor dad had to take us out to see lightings and Santa Clauses scattered all over Ahmedabad.
And if he came late from work, even God didn’t stand a chance of saving him from our combined wrath. He had to take us to each and every outlet that had Santa Claus; we had to get our picture taken with that Santa Claus; and my dad had to buy us the “gifts” from the outlet (it didn’t matter what it was). At that time, this ritual was of paramount importance to us. We had spectacular time. But today, when I am all grown up and have started working full time, I value that ritual more. Today I realize how my dad would have juggled his work to find time for these rituals for us. How my parents must have worked hard to do these small things that mattered to us.
I hope someday I would do the same things for my kids. And every time I would do this, I will appreciate my parents all over again. Sometimes, traditions are blessings because they highlight the trivial things that are important us, don’t they?
This post is my entry for the 'One Picture From My Photo Album' contest conducted by My Yatra Diary and CupoNation.
I would like to nominate 3 bloggers that I like: Random Jottings, Anunoy's bLa BLa aNd soME cLiCk ClicK and Just a mom!!!!