As you push open the small silver gate (if I remember correctly it was black and white a few years back albeit few years can be a long time in this context) the familiar creaking sound which we would have heard a million times brings a smile to your face. The sound which has served like a calling bell for years telling the occupants of the house that someone has come. The sound brings an old smiling man with a agarbathi in hand outside to greet you and when you see the welcoming smile on his face you know you have arrived in thatha's house.
The house which was always bustling with activity seems a bit silent now. The shoe rack just holds one pair of worn out slipper. There are no pattis commanding a legion of servants and maids constantly firing out dishes from the kitchen. The ladders and fridges ( I am specifically mentioning them as plural cause I remember at a point there were almost three fridges in the house each for a different purpose) which used to be always filled with goodies now seem a bit empty with a few biscuit packets. There no more a variety of bananas hanging in thatas room, you always used to be spoiled for choices from rasthali, poovam palam to green bananas and sometimes even the odd red bananas . Now there is just one lonely seep of banana hanging. The staircase where almost three generations have sat and had food seems so small now suddenly, and I am left wondering how all the cousins fit in that place during meal times. The terrace which was an expansive place to sit and read amidst the badam tree, a places where season after season I have sat with chinna patti and made vathals seems no more private with a four storied building nearby looking down on it. The wall separating the two houses has made the backyard very different. There is no more running between the two houses.
But amidst all these changes some things always remain constant. The feeling of sitting with a cup of hot steaming filter coffee in the veranda and looking at the world passing by outside the gates. Although the coffees were somehow never the same like how atthai patti used to make it. The familiar sound of water overflowing from the tank and the rush to switch off the motor. The trove of papers, books and magazines always available. The light below ammachies padam an indication if there is current in the house or not. The familiar hot water jug of thathas, which I admit i rarely drink from always choosing the huge anda with that steel mug. At a time when most people are worried about the quality of water, worried about boiling it or getting mineral water cans, here there are no such scenes just drink the normal siruvani water directly. I remember drinking water which was so muddy during rainy seasons that it used to be red in color.
And even with all the changes in the photographs in the hall, how during most diwali or weddings or any get together there used to be a photo shoot and the next time you come there will be an updated family photo, one could trace the growth of the family. Through all this, there has been one thing which is constant. As I see him now pushing open the gate and returning from his daily evening walk. He in his crisp white shirt and dhoti slowly walking across the veranda. In spite of all the changes around him he was never stuck in time and always ready to change himself according. A self made man who doesn't depend on anyone for his happiness. These walls which holds thousands of memories, thousands of conversations over thousands of cups of coffees, this house will always be about this one person. To everyone this place is a safe house where you are always welcome and can always run away to. I have never slept so peacefully in a long time as I did today. All I did today was eat breakfast, talk to thata, sleep, get up have lunch, talk to thatha and then go back to sleep. The pressure of office, responsibility, money seems so far off and I slept like a baby in the familiar bed amidst the familiar smells of this house.
But now I need to go, as Vijaya akka has started making piping hot dosais and I will get scolded if I sit with a laptop and not start thulping them. As the big plate of thata's with all its various compartments for different portions comes out of the kitchen, you realize even with all these changes nothing has changed.
It is and will be 90 Sivananda Colony. Thatas house :)
The house which was always bustling with activity seems a bit silent now. The shoe rack just holds one pair of worn out slipper. There are no pattis commanding a legion of servants and maids constantly firing out dishes from the kitchen. The ladders and fridges ( I am specifically mentioning them as plural cause I remember at a point there were almost three fridges in the house each for a different purpose) which used to be always filled with goodies now seem a bit empty with a few biscuit packets. There no more a variety of bananas hanging in thatas room, you always used to be spoiled for choices from rasthali, poovam palam to green bananas and sometimes even the odd red bananas . Now there is just one lonely seep of banana hanging. The staircase where almost three generations have sat and had food seems so small now suddenly, and I am left wondering how all the cousins fit in that place during meal times. The terrace which was an expansive place to sit and read amidst the badam tree, a places where season after season I have sat with chinna patti and made vathals seems no more private with a four storied building nearby looking down on it. The wall separating the two houses has made the backyard very different. There is no more running between the two houses.
But amidst all these changes some things always remain constant. The feeling of sitting with a cup of hot steaming filter coffee in the veranda and looking at the world passing by outside the gates. Although the coffees were somehow never the same like how atthai patti used to make it. The familiar sound of water overflowing from the tank and the rush to switch off the motor. The trove of papers, books and magazines always available. The light below ammachies padam an indication if there is current in the house or not. The familiar hot water jug of thathas, which I admit i rarely drink from always choosing the huge anda with that steel mug. At a time when most people are worried about the quality of water, worried about boiling it or getting mineral water cans, here there are no such scenes just drink the normal siruvani water directly. I remember drinking water which was so muddy during rainy seasons that it used to be red in color.
And even with all the changes in the photographs in the hall, how during most diwali or weddings or any get together there used to be a photo shoot and the next time you come there will be an updated family photo, one could trace the growth of the family. Through all this, there has been one thing which is constant. As I see him now pushing open the gate and returning from his daily evening walk. He in his crisp white shirt and dhoti slowly walking across the veranda. In spite of all the changes around him he was never stuck in time and always ready to change himself according. A self made man who doesn't depend on anyone for his happiness. These walls which holds thousands of memories, thousands of conversations over thousands of cups of coffees, this house will always be about this one person. To everyone this place is a safe house where you are always welcome and can always run away to. I have never slept so peacefully in a long time as I did today. All I did today was eat breakfast, talk to thata, sleep, get up have lunch, talk to thatha and then go back to sleep. The pressure of office, responsibility, money seems so far off and I slept like a baby in the familiar bed amidst the familiar smells of this house.
But now I need to go, as Vijaya akka has started making piping hot dosais and I will get scolded if I sit with a laptop and not start thulping them. As the big plate of thata's with all its various compartments for different portions comes out of the kitchen, you realize even with all these changes nothing has changed.
It is and will be 90 Sivananda Colony. Thatas house :)
