{"id":2032,"date":"2018-11-20T22:30:40","date_gmt":"2018-11-20T17:00:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?p=2032"},"modified":"2018-11-20T23:08:20","modified_gmt":"2018-11-20T17:38:20","slug":"the-immortal-pieces-of-metal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/the-immortal-pieces-of-metal\/","title":{"rendered":"The immortal pieces of metal"},"content":{"rendered":"

TEXT BY ANURAG ANAND
\nPHOTOGRAPHS BY ANURAG ANAND AND NAVDHA MALHOTRA<\/strong>
\nNew Delhi, India<\/em><\/p>\n

As we opened the grey trunk or the \u2018sandook\u2019 <\/em>as my grandmother would call it, the metallic smell of ageing iron engulfed us. There was dust in the air which meant that it hadn\u2019t been opened for a very long time. In fact, it was being used as a side table by my paternal grandmother, Prem Kanta Anand to place her water, books and cosmetics.\u00a0As we started scanning through her belongings, a small pouch lying in the corner caught my eye. What we found in it were treasures of her past that have traversed through our country, stood the test of time and remain in good shape- her treasured coin collection!<\/p>\n

My grandmother was born to a family of police officers on June 19, 1934 in Lahore, now in Pakistan. As the first daughter of Puran Chand Chadha, a high ranking police officer in British India, her childhood was rather smooth. She was very popular among her peer group and was known for her beauty and elegance right till the time she breathed her last on May 25, 2012 in Bangalore. Even on her death bed, her face shone like a diamond and was popularly known as \u2018sundariamma\u2019<\/em><\/strong> or \u2018beautiful mother\u2019<\/em><\/strong> by the nurses looking after her.<\/p>\n

\"Prem
Prem Kanta Anand’s Sandook (iron trunk)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The \u2018sandook<\/em>\u2019 that belonged to her had some of her key belongings but would be opened only when necessary. Most of the time, it was placed right in front of the mirror housing her cosmetics which she was very particular about. She looked after herself very well, with health and beauty. Her skin was smooth and soft as silk and I always remember pressing the veins on her hand with my fingers because I liked how soft they were.<\/p>\n

Since the trunk was rarely opened, we almost forgot that it was an iron trunk. I remember the smell that emanated from the rugs and sweaters my grandmother had knit. The smell of the wool reminds me of my childhood, a multi-coloured sweater she had knit for me and the days we’d get the sweaters out to wear them to school on the first day of winter in Bangalore.<\/p>\n