Where is my knife? You know I can’t use any other thing for cutting these vegetables. My mother would shout like this whenever she could not be able to find an old knife (that more looked like a dagger) while working in kitchen.Infact that knife has a complete history. My mother used to say that that knife was a production of her grandfather (maternal) ‘s genius mind, when he was in Kenya .My mother would add more spice to her narration by saying that he used to build home with wood and live near a wild forest for gathering timber. During His stay, he made this knife for himself and then it handed down in mother 's family.My mother eventually had this Family monument. We got so amazed by listening this story as it was astonishing for us ‘’The journey of a knife from Kenya to Pakistan.
Then my mother had another antique dresser ( a sort of) which has an embellished and emotional history. My mother was very dear to her grandfather (paternal).She spent her childhood in his company and listened his stories about British India. He said that he purchased this dresser from a British officer while he was leaving for Britain at the time of partition.
These are two monuments of my home very dear to my Mother. This month it has been 5 years since she left us (physically).People departed and left their lovely belongings behind and a lot of memories.May her soul rest in peace.(Ameen).
I don’t know whom among we three siblings will claim for having these monuments. We haven’t decided yet.:-)