The Old Photograph

This post is the last in the series Fiction.  It is a descriptive piece about an old photograph.

Year : 2100

As I frantically searched for my old books in the attic, I stumbled upon a small wooden box. Strangely enough, I hadn't noticed it before. Curiosity got the better of me and I dusted the box lightly before I pried it open. It contained a single photograph placed on a velvet cloth. I picked it up to get a better look.

Yellow with age, the photograph was reminiscent of good old times. As it nestled in my palms, I couldn't help but stare at the people in it. What struck me was the happiness that radiated from within them.The family of six stood huddled in a semi circle of sorts as they posed for a picture. Misty mountains and green forests could be seen in the backdrop, which added beauty to the scene.
Standing at the extreme left was a bearded, white haired, old man, in his late sixties, wearing a plain navy shirt and black pants with a shawl draped around his shoulder. His arm was placed protectively on the woman next to him, probably his wife. She looked to be in her early sixties and was dressed in a red silk saree, had studs in her ear and had a shawl draped over her shoulder. Her salt and pepper coloured hair was plaited together into a long braid that was being pulled to the front by a little boy who stood in front of her. Around six years old with jet black wavy hair, his eyes crinkled with mischief. He was dressed in brown shorts and a striped off white shirt, with a half open white wooly jumper on it. Crouched next to him with straight shoulder length brown hair and dressed in a jeans and pink t-shirt was a young girl, probably in her early teens. She had earrings that matched her t-shirt and had tied a blue sweater around her midriff in a stylish knot. Behind her stood a middle aged woman, dressed in a simple lavender salwar kameez. Her curly black hair lay stiff on her shoulder. She wore dangling earrings and held a small purse in her right hand. Her left hand was intertwined with the man who stood next to her, her husband. He wore a striped green t-shirt and jeans, was in his late thirties. He had brown hair and sported a fashionable goatee.

They all stood with happy faces, frozen in time and unaware of what the future had in store for them.
The photo seemed to be a souvenir of some sight seeing trip.Curious, I looked at the back of the photo, where faded ink marks proclaimed- Kodaikanal trip '93

I wondered who the people in the photo could be. They were all probably long gone by now, but I wanted to know their identities. They were most likely my ancestors, I mused. I quickly ran downstairs to ask my mother about them.