I had
conveniently forgotten to return “Midnights Children” to my friend who had
passed it on to me to read. Glad that I was, of not having returned the book I
started reading it all over again more than twenty years down the line. As page
by page I progressed I travelled back in time just like the author, down the memory lane. Ours too was a big joint family with three generations,
of all ages living together.
I could
visualize every evening with a hectic preparation in the verandah and the kitchen
as clock was ticking too fast and my grandfather was about to return from his
office. A chair with armrest was laid out and seating arrangements made. Then
came nana ji and we all came running to join him.
Someone
brought him a glass of water and this was followed by tea. Tea time was wonderful
for not only was tea served there was also “aloo ki tikki”chaat with three
colored chutneys (every day the menu was different). While we were busy gorging
Granny was busy in the kitchen and nana ji recuperating after a hard day of work
listening and telling stories of the day. This was then followed by fruits peeled
and dissected by Granny, offered to Grandpa and all of us. Sometimes I think
that despite that frugivorous environment why I never adapted to it, why do I crave
for the burgers and pizzas? Anyway that’s not the point. Grandpa was altogether
in a different mood when some relatives came. The tea time extended up to
dinner time. In summers, there was another round of mango shake that was even
wonderful as now even the dinner would be a lavish one. She welcomed everyone
with her lavish cooking, dinner had dahi bara, wonderful choley, pooris and
sweet dish. As for the sweet dish I was very fond of gulabjamuns. It was a
ritual for my grandmother to make them in numbers and hide them in the kitchen
store under lock and key. I was particularly fond of this sweet so besides an
extra helping that I was served I would sneak into the store and have a mouthful.
Another of her desserts that even I continue to make is the fruit cream, as the
name suggests it was elaborate, rich, creamy and mouthwateringly delicious.
We lived in
a simple house it was spacious enough for our needs but no one had a room for
themselves. There was a lot of emphasis on education specially STEM (science,
technology, engineering and mathematics). My grandfather had the math gene so
he was the teacher for all engineering aspirants in the family.We all studied
together under a night lamp on the terrace without AC’s and coolers. Setting up
that lamp was a task in itself the wire dangled precariously and the wind would often sway it sending one of us running down to insert the wire in its
socket (I don’t remember why we never had the plug).
Just before
the IndoPak war broke in 1971 we purchased a Television set and since it was
the very first one in the colony all neighbors, on every Wednesday gathered at
our place to see “Chitrahaar” (a music
program)and “Phool khile hain gulshan gulshan” a program on life and
achievements of movie stars hosted by beautiful, chirpy, ever smiling and soft
spoken Tabassum. We in those days even watched Krishi Darshan(agriculture based
program ).In the evening just as telecast of programs would start we would
spread sheets on the floor so that all extra visitors could be accommodated. We
covered up all the ventilators with newspapers ,switched off our lights so that
no light could be seen whenever there was a blackout in time of ’71 war and continued
to watch ‘Doordarshan’ in rooms shut inside.
Soon the
times started to change and our family began to disperse some went to colleges
in different bigger cities and some joined professional colleges only to bring
back their adventure stories. They then picked up employments elsewhere got
married and settled. Even Grandpa and granny left us for their heavenly abode.
We do not
live in that house anymore nor go there ever but like me other’s too carried their
stories of the yesteryears of fun, bonding, disagreements and love.
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