Souvenirs: Echoes of Moments Lived

There is a glass door cabinet in our living room which is home to all the souvenirs that became part of us after each travel. Each time I pass by hurrying with day to day errands, it’s a gentle reminder to pause and to savour back in time a certain moment of time and space . There are stories around them, whispers of past journeys. The cabinet feels like a portal to cherished memories, holding whispers of our adventures.

A 20 Rupee Note from Andamans: What Makes This Old, Worn-Out Note So Special?

The reverse side of the 20 Rupee note features a stunning depiction of the picturesque Andaman Islands—a fact many may know. But the magic lies in how this particular note came into our hands. While Rishon was swimming at one of the serene Andaman beaches, he stumbled upon this drenched currency note, intact despite its journey through the ocean waves.

It felt like a perfect gift from Mother Ocean, delivered amidst the soft hues of an evening twilight. This simple note, now a cherished keepsake, holds a deeper meaning for us. It’s a constant reminder of that blissful evening in the middle of the ocean—a moment of pure serenity and connection with nature’s beauty.

Pebbles from the Jurassic Coast Walk, UK

One of my most cherished experiences was walking along the southwest coastline for eight long hours with two little kids. We kept motivating ourselves with promises of soft serves at every milestone, all while soaking in the breath taking coastal views from the cliffs. Time seemed to slip away as we trudged along, exhausted yet utterly mesmerized. I fondly recall collecting pebbles from the shore, the coolness of the water against my fingers. Sanju surprised me with two special pebbles, and in that fleeting moment, those pebbles meant the world to me.

Whispering Tibetan Flag, Sikkim

It’s believed that as the wind passes over these flags, carrying the sacred mantras written on them, the air itself is purified and blessed. Even the faintest breeze sets them in motion, whispering ancient prayers into the vast expanse of space.

There’s something deeply poetic about it—prayers carried by the wind. And now, in our home, we have our own small Tibetan flag, gently whispering its blessings to every passing breeze.

A Scottish Pop up book, Great Glen Map, Celtic Prayer – Scotland

Scotland, to me, is a realm of myth and magic—a land steeped in legends and timeless tales. We brought along the story of the Loch Ness Monster, fondly known as Nessie, in the form of a pop-up book. With curious hearts, we truly searched for her along the shores of Loch Ness, but it seems she chose to remain unseen that day

The crumpled Great Glen map we carried still brings back memories of that journey. I vividly recall the moment we stopped to feed a flock of ducks—only for one to nip Ruhie’s fingers, making her frown and exclaim, “Why are all the birds only mean to me?” Meanwhile, Rishon, in a moment of dramatic surrender, raised his hands in front of the flock, declaring he had no food to offer. It’s these little, unexpected moments that have woven themselves into the fabric of our being.

The Little Wooden Cow from Switzerland

This little Swiss cow souvenir instantly takes me back to a chilly, foggy day when we decided to trek with the kids. Ruhie still needed a travel buggy since she wasn’t up for walking long distances. The thick fog made visibility poor as we moved along the trail, but after a while, we began to hear the faint, melodic clanging of cowbells in the distance.

The sound grew louder until, out of the mist, a herd of cows emerged, seemingly charging toward us. On the narrow path, we—and a few other trekkers—had no choice but to stand still and let the herd pass. It was both nerve-wracking and surreal, a moment etched forever in our memories, captured in the charm of that tiny Swiss cow.

It was the day Ruhie outgrew her need for a stroller, walking with a newfound determination as if she had been doing it all along. She braved the trail with us. After the trek, sitting down to enjoy some hot soup felt like pure heaven—a simple comfort that made the day even more memorable.

These memories are like the mantras on the Tibetan flag, softly whispering love into our souls. Yet, just as the ink on the flag fades with time, so too might these moments blur as our memory falters. Does that mean they are bound by the limits of our memory? Perhaps.

But even as the details fade, the essence of those moments—the emotions, the connections, the sheer presence of being—will linger in our consciousness. Like the wind carrying the prayers from the flag, their impact remains, woven into the fabric of who we are, long after the specifics are forgotten.