A night of kotatsu, mandarin oranges and TV
A night of kotatsu, mandarin oranges and TV
-The image of a family surrounded by warmth-
Winter night. Outside the window
Even though a cold wind was blowing, the room was strangely warm.
warm .
The "island" of a kotatsu
The kotatsu was the center of the house in winter.
It's cold anywhere in the room, but inside the kotatsu it's like a different world.
The moment you put your feet in, you feel relieved.
The family naturally gathers together.
There is a basket of mandarin oranges on top of the kotatsu.
Newspapers, remote controls, someone's work, someone's knitting. All lined up in a mess .
But there was order.
was the family's "island."
The "common language" of mandarin oranges
It's warm and of course makes you want to eat mandarin oranges.
The sound of peeling, the sweet aroma, the warmth spreading in your hands.
Tangerines were the common language of winter.
He silently accepts the mandarin oranges that someone has peeled for him.
He gently hands the mandarin orange he has peeled to the person next to him.
Even without words, there was kindness there.
That winter I ate so much that my hands turned yellow.
It was fun watching the oranges I bought in boxes go by the time they were picked.
They roll up tangerine peels and play in the kotatsu.
.
Television as a "window"
During the Showa era, television was a window into the family.
News, music shows, dramas, mix.
Each one sparked conversation within the family.
"This person has appeared before."
"I liked this song."
"This scene makes me cry"
If someone laughs, laugh along with them.
When someone cries, there is a quiet silence.
Television was a device that connected the family emotionally.
The channel battles are now a nostalgic memory.
Sometimes it was because of sibling fights.
But that was also proof that we had spent time together.
"Sharing warmth" inside a kotatsu
Your feet will bump into each other inside the kotatsu.
Someone's feet and someone's feet met without even realizing it.
.
This "sharing of warmth" was the magic of the kotatsu.
A sense of connection without words.
Family is an invisible bond.
People who fall asleep in the kotatsu.
A person playing with tangerine peels.
People who work while watching TV.
Even though we are all doing different things, we are in the same space.
But that was the richness of the Showa era nights.
Fragments of Memory: Poetry and Landscape
My feet bump into each other inside the kotatsu.
The tangerine peel becomes round.
The sound of the TV makes me laugh.
It was a family flower that bloomed on a winter's night.
This poem is a part of memory, captured from a winter night during the Showa era.
Kotatsu, oranges, TV
.
Now, sitting around the kotatsu
Nowadays, some homes even have kotatsu.
As air conditioners and floor heating became mainstream, the kotatsu became a "nostalgic item."
Consumption of mandarin oranges has also decreased, and televisions have been replaced by personal smartphones.
However, the "shared warmth" that was present in the kotatsu
It still lives in our memories.
Imagine if we could gather around a kotatsu right now.
If I could pick up a mandarin orange and laugh while watching the same show as someone else,
.
A night of kotatsu, mandarin oranges and TV.
It is a small but certain image of happiness that blossomed in the winter of the Showa era.
.