Umesh is a freelance writer contributing his creative writings on varied subjects in various sites and portals in the internet.
Brenda Arledge, our fellow hubber in hubpages, every week gives one word to us to use in our creative writings and produce a poem or fiction or any such creative work. Brenda's relentless and consistent supply of these words to fellow writers is really appreciable and commendable action and is a praiseworthy task seeing that she never forgets to post an inspiring word along with her poetry every week.
So, this poem is also inspired by her recent offer (week 33) of the world 'photograph' and motivated me to recollect my old photographs that had been collected over a long time and had been placed in albums making a stack of them in my cupboard.
In old age, it is really very interesting and amusing to go through the personal photographs from childhood to the present consisting of so many occasions and gatherings with friends and relatives and locations where one had visited and functions and special occasions one had attended. The happenings during the last so many decades are just placed in front of us and showcase the most unforgettable moments in our lives which can now only be seen just in those photographs. Starting from the black and white era of photography and ending with the latest current digital high pixel photography the collection contains all the hues from white to grey and grey to vibrant colours. These old collections look like the shades of life during the past period that has been availed by oneself in one's life and all the milestones and main incidents seemed to be engraved in those physical records.
One interesting thing that has been seen in this context is that there is a hiatus in that collection as there are no physical prints for quite some time and every recent photograph is available either on the mobile or computer or a hard disk. So there is an abrupt discontinuity, very much perceptible in that stack of albums as those things are missing there.
This poem tries to depict the feeling of an old person who is almost at the last phase of his life and just going through the collection of photographs in the albums that are kept in the cupboard.
Photographs in my albums
I was growing older and older,
Was at the fag end of my life.
I was happy and contented,
Did not have any conflict or strife.
My movements were restricted,
Confined to the house boundaries.
Only these four walls knew,
My deficiencies and my miseries.
And then one day when,
I happened to open my old cupboard.
I glanced upon the dusted albums,
Stacked aside and lying ignored.
I pulled them one by one,
And kept on a nearby table.
They were appearing to me,
As books containing some old fable.
Opening them one by one,
I travelled back in time.
My mind was resonating,
With that old charm of mine.
The old ones were black and white,
The later ones were fully coloured.
Some of them looked very familiar,
While others seemed to be blurred.
Small-medium and big sized,
Collection of the photograph.
They were covering me and my family,
Through the long chronograph.
My long life is just packed,
In these few album pages.
I am old but my mind is young,
For that life it still crazes.
I would be departing the world soon,
Leaving the album stack behind.
Those who want to meet me,
Can scan the albums and rewind.
© 2021 Umesh Chandra Bhatt