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....