700 km

The last time I went to my grandparents’ place (my parents’ hometown where they grew up and studied together since grade 1 – sweet and almost surreal story in our society) was in 2008. By some standards, it is a long time ago; especially, by theirs. So, 350 km one way on Saturday (high-way speeds of questionably-legal limits), gave me a great sunny afternoon with them – to take pictures of their intent concentration, their swirling emotional states, their wisdom, their incessant contemplations of times gone by, their film-strips down memory lane, and their predictions of the future (with beans). And despite age, broken wrist that still needs healing, and … other things, they were full with energy. And it took my grandma a wink to prep herself with make-up, fancy suit and a silk scarf for the camera (and the photographer). And that was another walk down memory lane – for me – remembering those rooms in which I spent every summer, remembering those small utensils which hadn’t changed in 15 years, remembering the care and love that I received from them. With the pictures, I permanently fixed those memories. Again. In a share-able version.