India, Sept. 28 -- A button fell off my husband's shirt the other day. Such a small mishap, yet I found myself smiling. That little white circle opened a cupboard of memories: Mother's button box, grandmothers' nimble fingers, hooks on skirts, embroidery on frocks, and a childhood when almost nothing was thrown away merely because it had come loose.

Sometimes it takes no grand keepsake to unlock the past; a button is enough. I remember one falling off in our classroom years ago. There was instant uproar. We all bent down, peering under desks and between shoes. The button rolled like a tiny tyre, gathered momentum, and disappeared beneath a heavy tin box. A rescue operation followed-rulers probed, fingers groped, and suggestions flew unti...