Someone, living in Kabul in the 1940s owned this little heart shaped box. I wonder what they kept in it. What secrets did the little metal heart keep safe?
Maybe it belonged to a young woman, who kept her earrings and trinkets safe beneath its delicate lid? Or maybe it belonged to an old woman, whose tightly folded love letters from years gone by were tucked into the little box? Maybe she’d open the tight lid once in a while, pick out a favourite letter, and reminisce about days gone by, about heartbreak and lost love? Maybe it was a present from one young lover to another: a metal heart as a symbol for a living, beating counterpart. On the other hand, maybe Lennart Edelberg, the explorer who brought the box home to Denmark, merely bought it in a bazaar in Kabul, and it was never treasured by anyone…
The beauty of not knowing its secrets is that I get to use my imagination. I get to picture the owner of the box, sitting in a window looking out over the bustling Kabul of the 1940s, their secrets safely hidden in a little metal heart.