Antiques

My home is filled with antiques. Items collected through the years by my father and then added by me, simply because he liked them, was intrigued by them or for his friends who needed them as props in their film. We have many antique items used as props in Satyajit Ray’s Satranj ki Khilari. There is a balance between heirloom and objects to study. The common thread seemed to be that each object has a story, like the porcelain figurine from Dresden of Gods and Goddess, many worshiped in their days of glory.  A muslin cloth piece woven with gold thread with the motif of the dancing girl which belonged to the Nawabs of Murshidabad. Or the antique clock on the living room made in Switzerland, once telling us that it is time to run to school. My father favoured the unusual, so long as it appeared to have been treasured by someone, once upon a time. My father kept the visiting cards in an antique box with a brass plate engraved from a father to a son. I hang ‘Patachitra’ on a stand originally meant for cycle. Other treasures captivated me, like the Flint-Lock pistol which I once stole to take it to school for a play on Peter Pan or the Ceremonial sword, with which you could cut through a water melon like a knife on butter. They all are steeped in hidden history, bearing the nicks and gouges and fingerprints of previous owners. I have probably developed the affinity from spending so much of my childhood in my father’s library where all of these lay displayed staring at you.