Reminiscence

Dated:14 July 2000(Class XI)

At this instant, I, Sanchari Mukherjee, or Brishti, as I am affectionately called by my parents … and also by dadu, my late grandfather, am standing all alone at this little grilled verandah attached to our new apartment in Saltlake. This is the posh, unfeeling area, where we have just shifted to from the triple storied, well-renowned ‘Mukherjee Bari’ of Bhavanipur. The latter had been the birthplace of my great grandfather and all his numerous descendants, including me.

At this instant, everything in our new little coop lay at sixes and sevens. There sits my mom and dad, in our freshly painted drawing room, with tears rolling down their cheeks. I have just handed over to them three insignificant objects I discovered while unpacking the boxes –three objects belonging to my dadu, that have taken my parents to the darkness of remorse, sorrow and reminiscence.