Sunday, February 21, 2016

Change is not always necessary

I Landed in Mumbai with Evan and my parents; we were greeted by our near and dear ones at the airport. Everyone was super happy to see Evan and his histrionics! On our way home I was constantly feeling the eagerness the see my parents’ new house, of course mine too in a way! The old houses were demolished and a new building stood on the same land. There were two buildings connected to each other, one three storeyed and the other seven storeyed. The builder had promised to retain the names of the building which was a blessing in disguise. The well was now covered and hardly looked like a well. There was concrete everywhere. The trees which were taller than our old house were now belittled by the new building. It was not like I was against demolishing the old house; it was a practical and correct decision, but my heart kept going back to the thoughts of the old house as I stepped in the elevator to reach the third floor where my parents and my brother lived. The new house was neatly decorated to welcome the newest entrant of the family. Evan had been a very good baby throughout the flight, but the journey had been tiring. After a hot steaming cup of tea we were fresh and chit chatted for a while. Evan was keeping me busy but now I had so many helping hands! Finally after the entire hustle bustle it was time to get some rest. After Evan was asleep, I slipped into my space silently. I slept almost immediately. The coming days were as busy as they should be for a new mother. There was more help in India but with a three month old baby it’s always unpredictable! Amidst all this I always kept thinking about living in the old house. I found myself pondering about the good old days. And then I realised that actually nothing had changed much! Of course the physical appearance had changed but most things were similar. While lying down beside Evan one afternoon with my eyes closed I heard sounds of a typical afternoon many years ago…. trains fleeting to and fro, a vehicle passing by once in a while, the sound of the ceiling fan in the quietness of the afternoon when everyone was enjoying their nap. I visualized my dada sitting in the balcony with closed eyes humming a song, aaji lying down listening to him ….my six year brother, annoyed that everyone was sleeping and he had to be quiet, my mother making tea in the kitchen and then the aroma of the boiling tea waking everyone gradually….just as I was in my day dream my mother called out to tell me that tea was ready and I better have it while Evan is still sleeping. I suddenly realised that my brother was now married and even I was a mother of a baby boy! My dada was maybe watching me from heaven and smiling. Aaji was already having tea. It was an overwhelming experience. Even if the time had changed and the look of our house was different, the sound of every afternoon was similar…it made me secure and told me that I lived in the same place with the same people around me…though now we had to ring the doorbell to go to anyone’s house…we still did not have to take an appointment to visit them. My father’s aunt who lived on the second floor was welcome at our house at any time of the day and so were we. Evan’s Arnav dada (my cousin’s son) was a regular visitor to play with Evan. Things will not change if we don’t let them change!L

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