India Diaries- Revisiting the Past

I stood there, in front of that familiar house, familiarity wavering as the outer facade seemed a little changed. Two luxury cars were parked in the covered driveway, and a gardener was watering the plants. Barring that, there was no sign of anyone living there. No noise. No activity. As if they were on vacation. I tried hard to think of the name. She was one of the three sisters- and i could no longer remember if her name was Jasmeet or Jaspreet. Given that we had last met almost two decades ago, i thought that was okay. I decided to ask the gardener.

"The people, who used to live here, are they still here?" or "Is any one home?" what was a better question, i contemplated. Instead, i ended up asking, "Yahan par teen behnen rehti thi- wo abhi bhi hain kya?" (Three sisters used to live here, are they still here?)

"Only madam and Sardarji live here now ", he replied.

"Which madam?"

"J” he said the  name, "the other one has gone abroad."

I assumed one of the sisters had moved to the US and one was living here with her husband...or, could it be that all three had got married and moved abroad and only their parents were living here?

"Kisi se baat kar sakte hain kya? ek minute bula denge please?" (Can i talk to someone, could you please call someone from inside the house?)

"Madam to shayad paath kar rahi hongi aur Sardar ji abhi fresh hone gaye honge" (Madam must be praying right now and Sir would be freshening up) he replied while going to ring the bell.

I thought about dropping the idea but it was too tempting. I was visiting the city after twenty years and i wanted to meet the girl i had studied with for three years. I had always wondered what cards life had dealt to the young, graceful, intelligent girl i had known. We were never close  friends, more like acquaintances. But i admired her for what i did not have- her grace and her home right in front of our college. 

After what seemed like eternity, a gentleman appeared with an obvious questioning glance. I am sure now i must have sounded like a confused babbler when i said i was looking for this girl, three sisters, i was with the middle one, studying so and so subject, the elder one studying another stream...and so on.  

The gentleman patiently heard who i was looking for and told me that the elder one was now in London and the girl I was looking for was inside. He invited me in to talk to her.

A few minutes wait, and after two decades, i found myself face to face with the girl i had wondered about all these years. She looked just the same, only more elegant, and more reserved. I should not have expected her to show any warmth anyway since I had  decided to drop in uninvited and unannounced. I could not help hugging her though- a piece from my past shifting place, itching to get a new colour.

We spoke briefly- about our ex-principal, our lives now though i could not bring myself to ask her if she was married or what was she doing now (i found these questions too personal), i learnt that her mom who used to send hot aloo paranthas for us hostellers had passed away a few years back...we exchanged our phone numbers and with a 'Stay in touch' i said goodbye to her.

I was happy to have done this- i had created new memories in the disc space marked J and they allowed me to remember her in a fresh light.

Right across was the formidable college building- the place i had loved so much that i thought the three years spent there were the best years of my student life. But now, it seemed so different. There were no locked gates, students/ visitors going in and out on a weekday evening. The barbed wires were the same but the building bore a fresh paint. The hostel premises had been extended far beyond. I could see the classrooms from where i stood. I imagined the girls waiting at the boundary of the Arts block before the bell rang for their classes to begin, the white uniform for Mondays, the assembly, the break times, the small library, the tiny gift shop, the juice shop, the canteen where my first war against the soft drink industry's impact on the environment was waged after joining hands with our Environment teacher- she cycled her way to the college every single day...

I didn’t want to disturb any of those memories. I wasn’t even willing to take the risk of seeing if all of this had changed since the Principal had changed. The one person i wanted to meet was not there at that hour in the evening. So, I convinced myself- i was not tempted to go inside and relive. I was worried i might make new memories that would spoil my own old sweet ones. I realized these new memories would have no one i associated with my great three years there in them- no friends, no teachers, no incidents, no achievements, no wardens and no hostel stories...

As i sat in the car, i realized how unforgiving buildings can be.

I realized that places which are special to you should never be revisited for the sake of your own memories.

I realised that revisiting them may not be as pleasant as the original pictures in your mind.

I realized that although both, places and people change;  people speak to you, stay connected to you and allow you to move on with new memories of themselves. Whereas places- they stand there, changed but disconnected- it does not matter to them who is visiting them with what strange ideas, or memories or whatever- they extend, they shrink, they change colour, they even change plans- but still, they remain inhuman....

India Diaries- The Movie

Some people say they hate surprises. I had never quite fathomed why, until very recently. My apologies to that set of people, whose thoughts i could not understand or appreciate...I always took 'surprises' in a positive sense, like a surprise birthday party, or a surprise gift, or a surprise visit from a loved one, or a surprise phone call announcing i had won a lottery! All positive. Now, i can safely say, it is better to stay neutral as far as surprises are concerned.

My visit to India has been full of such surprises- positive, negative, in-betweens. It would become a travelogue if i was to write details of each surprise but to share a few is definitely in order.

 We decided to go for a movie - a late night show to accommodate my brother's gruelling working hours. As we settled down into our seats, the kids had already started getting impatient (for their popcorn and drinks served at their seats!). And then it started- we wondered if we were in the wrong theatre. It looked like a 1980s movie. We tried to think what it was about. Was it an advertisement - it looked like Vicco's advertisement from back then when it started - a family of three, an only boy, his parents wanting him to have a sibling, mother having some medical issues- so what do they do? It sure could not be an ad; it was toooooo long for that. It just went on and on- capturing their daily life, the boy’s loneliness, the chance meetings, the house help.....an intense 15-20 minutes long motion- picture. Finally, the 'it' is revealed- they adopt a girl child.

The advertisement/ short film was about adoption, and more specifically, adoption of girl child. I was still appreciating the thought and the effort when it started. (Again???)

The familiar tricolour appeared on the screen, with a reminder to all to stand up in respect. While i was still reading the reminder (i was not expecting it at all!!), it started playing- Our National Anthem.

Yes, they were playing the National Anthem before actually starting the movie. It was emotional and nostalgic at the same time. As you sing along the National Anthem, it fills you with feelings of pride and solidarity you did not know existed. For those who feel nothing of the sorts, i think, they need to shake themselves up real hard, get pinched - may be they are just sleeping???

As we all stood up in respect, i could see a group of young men in the front seats looking back to see if rest of the audience was standing.  Then tentatively, some of them stood; rest of them still waiting, until they felt ashamed enough.

The last i had seen the National Anthem being played in the theatres was when i was a child and that too for specific movies about our war victories or national heroes.

The movie seemed less interesting in front of these surprises.

India Diaries- The Gift Shopping

I had not thought i would do it. Seriously! There was no plan to go, and in spite of my having been to the malls umpteen number of times, i had not been tempted by the on-going 'Sale' offers. (I had stopped buying for 'future' gifting purposes long back- given the space constraints in my cupboard!). And yet, there i was; having given in to the strong desire to meet my parents; running to the malls on consecutive days, with kids in tow (who could not wait for it all to end).

I started at the Ibn Battuta mall, for the sheer fact that it has more walking and breathing space than Mall of the Emirates. (I did venture out to MoE one day, and i could not wait to rush out of its sea of shoppers...it was truly suffocating!). Running from clothing shops, to book shop to the jewellery stores- i can tell you from my very own personal experience that gift shopping may seem exciting at first, but in reality, it is a very tiring and frustrating experience. You have a list of friends and relatives in your hand, and a very vague idea of what you would like to buy for them in a given budget per person- but, to find an ideal gift that meets those gender, age, relationship, and financial criteria, you need a lot of patience, stamina and will power. Add the irritated kids to that list if your kids hate shopping like mine!

So, there i was when i came across some very interesting shoppers.

At the jewellery store, i met this young girl (must be in her early twenties), dressed in simple black and white, hair tied up roughly in a knot and wearing interesting earrings. She saw a lot of simple, everyday wear pieces. By the colour of her skin, she looked European, though she could be from anywhere really. I assumed though, that she was European. I wondered why was she shopping alone. I wondered if she lived here, or was she on holiday or work? I wondered why a young girl like her had no companion... as we both finalised our purchases and the gifts were being wrapped, we both found ourselves admiring a pair of earrings placed on the table in front of us. 

"Very pretty!" i remarked.

"For my mom" she said, "her birthday gift."

"Wow!" i thought " lucky mom that her daughter is going through the trouble of selecting a gift that she would be able to wear and show off to her friends..." i tried to imagine rest of her mom's life, her friends, her social circle, her home...but realised it would be too much given the limited interaction i had had with the girl.

A while later, at a clothing store when i was asking the staff for a particular size in the shirt i had selected, an Arab lady walked up to him and asked him something in Arabic, pointing to the dress she had in her hand.

"Sorry ma'am. No Arabic."

She looked at me, if i could tell her what he had just said.

"Maafi Arabi", the only two words i know by heart!

What followed was a mix of hand signs (to denote the age that she was buying for), sign language (like walking), a very broken Arabic conversation, and in the end, a happy ending! She got the information that she was looking for (whether the dress was right for a toddler who had just started walking!), i got the realisation that i should have put more effort in talking to Arabic speakers to pick up the language (that is the only way to truly learn the local dialect by the way!), and the staff probably was thankful that he would not be reprimanded for not being able to help the customer.

A while later i was at the Information counter dropping my 'lucky draw' coupons in the barrel when a family of four walked to claim their own coupons.

"Where are you from?" the staff asked them- he was putting the details in his computer.

"Bahrain."

He handed them over their coupons, and as they proceeded to fill them, the lady grumbled to her husband "You should get a stamp made with your name and address and carry it when we come to Dubai...we have to fill all these details again and again in these coupons"

Clearly, they came to Dubai often, shopped a lot and usually during the shopping festivals.

And then there were more, like the stifling experience at Mall of the Emirates, or the relatively fun way of taking a long walk while trying to find a particular store at the Dubai Mall - thanks to the size of the mall!

In all, i realised that gift shopping may not be fun in itself, but it is great nonetheless. There is always an apprehension whether your gift would be enjoyed or received in the same spirit as it is given; but there is also a satisfaction that you have put in an effort that is truly worthy of the person for whom it is being bought...and that is how, all the visits back home start.

The Homecoming...

I had started looking forward to coming back. “Home, sweet home” I longed; and yet, every homecoming, here or there, is full of such mixed emotions. I wondered this morning, as I landed at the airport, why did I not feel that gravitational pull here? Was I tired? Was I sleepy? Was I really not looking forward to a house with no house help (note: I had been perfectly happy with my part time house help arrangement before I left and yet suddenly, I longed for the kind of help I had become so used to in this month, just one month in India- so easy to get used to being pampered!)? Or, was it just because in spite of my many many years here, I had no roots here, only offshoots of material happiness? I think it was the last one. I had not stayed in India for such a long time in years; and I was in no mood to glorify the ‘up and coming’ and yet confused mess that daily life there is; and yet, I felt more drawn to it while travelling on NH 1 ample number of times this time…I saw what I had seen decades before. The filth, the dirt, the poverty, the daily struggle to survive, the green fields, the crammed public transport buses, the lack of civic sense, the piles of garbage on the roadside; and in middle of all this, an obstinate will to live, survive, hope and rise above the given lot.  I was overwhelmed by the over concerned well-wishers, and to some extent, had started getting stifled by this over pouring of emotion; and  yet, I realized the quietness of being alone was no better. I guess I am trying to find a balanced life while living in two extreme worlds…and that is precisely the reason of my mixed emotions this time. My own house looks new, the streets look bigger, life seems same as I had left it a month back; and yet, I can hear an emptiness echoing…I think I have forgotten to go with the flow! That’s all!!