And their eyes were my eyes.

I saw behind me those who had gone, and before me those who are to come.

I looked back and saw my father, and his father, and all our fathers, and

in front to see my son, and his son, and the sons upon sons beyond.

And their eyes were my eyes.

Richard Llewellyn

In my house in Palam Vihar, I have kept a special room for my diaries (have been a regular diarist since 1983). Over a period of time, photos, videos have added to the written word.

One Christmas card, which Carlos (A Nigerian friend) from Tripoli’s San Francisco Church (Dahra) still plays the greetings tune, many years after it was gifted.

Every man is a quotation from all his ancestors.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

I met my brother (Guddu bhai)  at Lodhi, early in the morning, before the work-day swallows life…Four generations of our family have walked in Lodhi gardens-Delhi

This is with Guddu bhai, over the years we have talked about our many journeys

together. Last year he told of his Shimla trip. This year he told of Andaman Nicobar

Many nuances of life came alive as we sat in Palam Vihar, seeing video diaries, photojournals and remembering the days gone by

Devraj bhai said – “Mummy kindled a love of literature in me.”

His father too used to write stories.

“He was a Botanist, but loved literature” Bua ji said, remembering old times.

And recalled some poems which he had learnt in childhood

This packrat has learned that what the next generation will value most is not what we owned, but the evidence of who we were and the tales of how we loved. In the end, it’s the family stories that are worth the storage.
-Ellen Goodman,
The Boston Globe

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About prashant bhatt

A doctor in Imaging, photographer, writer likes to read and travel. A regular diarist, journaling since 1983 Reading journal : gracereadings.com
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