Home :: Postcards and Pearls :: TIME TRAVEL - India
TIME TRAVEL
We do not know the true value of our moments until they have undergone the test of memory.
Georges Duhamel
From a small treasure box, a friend presented me with more than a dozen postcards I had mailed to her from around the world. "I appreciated receiving these," she said. "They're special." I examined each card's photo, description, postmark and my handwritten missive. More than memories, my tactile interplay with this tiny feast of the senses transported me back to a moment in time unlike what I had experienced when revisiting albums or journals.
I recalled the first time I rounded the corner of the west gate to the gardens of India's Taj Mahal. My Taj guide had taken his time to wend through the history of the building's construction, stopping every third yard to dramatize what he considered a noteworthy fact. My expectations sank with each superlative reference. I thought, It's a building, for Christmas sake. It can't be all that.
My guide stopped us just before the gate to put the finishing touch on his prologue. With a flourish akin to a doorman at a five-star hotel, he ushered me through the thick wooden doors. Then he stepped aside and watched for my reaction. Oh. My. God was all I said over and over again.
Mammoth and marble white, imposing yet elegant and accessible, the Taj wasn't architecture merely to be observed then entered like an office building. Rather, it was a coquette beckoning from a distance, requiring first a slow flirtation along the quarter mile length of the rectangular pool in the fore garden that reflected its mirror image. I had come to see; Instead, I left bewitched.
Returning the postcards to my friend I thought, I wish I had sent these to myself. Now I do.
While my journeys are most fresh, the postcard's limited space insists that I unclutter my impressions and distill a moment to its essence. As a form of journaling, a collection of personalized postcards is sensually rich yet allows ease of access at a later time. And like the friends who appreciate being on the receiving end, it is just as special for me to retrieve my own postcards from the mailbox often for weeks after I've returned home.
We spend so much time thinking of, and doing for others. Let's add "me" to that list.
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