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LIVING UNDER THE SAME ROOF


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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