Heartbroken? Visit Zagreb's Museum of Broken Relationships

A young girl stood, dressed in traditional finery, near the medieval Lotršc´ak Tower in the Upper Town. At her feet lay dozens of hearts, shiny and bright red. A dozen more peeped from the basket on her arm. She smiled and I stood riveted, feeling welcomed by the warm sight. I fell in love with Zagreb.
All through my stay in the Croatian capital, the hearts continued to fascinate me; even restaurants and shops gift them to customers.

It turns out that heart-shaped licitars (gingerbread cakes) are part of an interesting Croatian tradition—when a young man gifts one to a woman, it means his heart belongs to her. Today, you'll find the shiny, red-lacquered hearts in every souvenir shop of the city. In fact, Croatian composer Krešimir Baranovic´ has also created a ballet called Licitarsko srce (Gingerbread Hearts).Zagreb is a city of hearts!

Just 500 from the lovely lass with the basket full of licitars, I came across a board that read: The Museum of Broken Relationships. Curious, I made my way in and discovered exhibits varying from wedding gowns to letters, all kinds of memorabilia narrating stories of failed relationships. I browsed through the collection with an emotional tug.
There was a heartbreaking tale of a young Croatian woman, who left behind an old Nokia cellphone and a battered plastic cover, with the words– "It was 300 days too long. He gave me his cell phone so I couldn't call him anymore." A tiny receptacle filled with tears is from a German man, who mourned a four-year relationship; "A wonderful, but sneaky woman," is how he describes her. The uncorked bottle of Champagne adorning one of the shelves was left by a Turkish woman; she wanted to pop it on the first anniversary of her relationship. She was confident her boyfriend would propose. Nothing of the sort happened. He walked out on her. Other donations include an axe left by an ex lesbian lover (who used it to break all the furniture after they split), a wedding gown, a pair of stilettos, a gingerbread cookie, a ceramic bowl from a pair of business partners who fell out of love, and even a registration plate from a car. But the most unusual one was a few strands of hair tied and placed in a purple jewellery box, the woman who left it had cut her hair in an instance of insanity after a brief and passionate relationship.

While most of the exhibits pertain to failed love affairs, some heart-wrenching ones speak of children abandoned by their parents. A couple of frogs look out from the articles of angst; "Mom left me when I was three, this is one of the few Christmas gifts she gave me," writes a 36-year-old woman from the US. The strands of barbed wire on another shelf were from a child, who was rejected by the father, a junk collector. Stories of heartbreaks and sighs fill the museum. Some poignant and some witty.

After their romantic relationship ended in 2006, sculptor Dražen Grubišic´ and film maker Olinka Vištica began asking friends to donate things left behind from their break-ups and held their first exhibition in a most unlikely venue–a container. The two lugged the exhibits around in suitcases to various cities in the world, collecting and displaying them to an awed public, till they finally established a permanent museum in Zagreb. It received the Kenneth Hudson Award for Europe's most innovative museum in 2011 and they have showcased the exhibits in 15 countries.

"A chance to overcome an emotional collapse through creation, by contributing to the museum's collection," urge the words painted on one of the museum's walls.