A sparkling new but stolid looking building stood in one corner of the compound. The old building was razed down and had given way for plots for the three families that inherited the property of their forefathers. The land rate was now phenomenal and a house in this area was a gold mine. There were a few plants left adjoining the compound wall - among which I spotted a curry leaf bush; a warm memory of someone picking it off fresh for the rasam flashed across my mind. Deja Vu or memory my mind fails to establish.
I walked along the path that was once an overgrown tract of land in one corner of the house of my grandparents. It was left to grow wild with no care and it had assorted plants ranging from the curry leaves, lemon trees, gooseberry trees and thick undergrowth that was rumored to harbour snakes. An old door used to open out to this area and every time I opened the door as a child, it was akin to entering another world fraught with danger and still to be explored for the rewards of fresh gooseberries and guavas. It was an adventure that one savored day after day as a child exploring the world within a compound.
The new building was large. It was constructed with the latest offerings in the market, glittering white tile floors, shining polished brown doors with dead bolts and hi-tech locks. The bathroom fittings were all sophisticated with multiple taps and tubes. Arty lights adorned the walls and air conditioning was available in all the rooms. The kitchen was well stocked with all forms of utensils and provisions. It was the new age home of the wealthy and one couldn't ask for more and yet my heart wasn't able to feel joy.
In one corner of the compound stood a small concrete tank that adjoined the front facing wall of the house. Memories of skinny dipping in it came to me. Appatha would yell from the house saying that was the water we had for the day as water supply was scant, regardless of which I enjoyed my bath while my dad and Ayya stood laughing at my antics. Adjoining this tank was a well. It was home to a group of sparrows that got jittery whenever I was close by. They would go in an out of the well with twigs and feathers to cosy up their nest. The well had disappeared now. Only the tank stood testimony to my brief but wonderful childhood memories of my grandparents home.
As I look at the modern building and the old ramshackle tank I felt deep sadness. With time even the current vestiges would disappear and give way for more new buildings. That would no doubt garner quite a phenomenal economic value, but who is to tell the world that memories matter more?
My nostalgic moments which brought a smile to my face ended with a frown brought by the knowledge that I was seeing my childhood being chipped away, brick by brick.
I walked along the path that was once an overgrown tract of land in one corner of the house of my grandparents. It was left to grow wild with no care and it had assorted plants ranging from the curry leaves, lemon trees, gooseberry trees and thick undergrowth that was rumored to harbour snakes. An old door used to open out to this area and every time I opened the door as a child, it was akin to entering another world fraught with danger and still to be explored for the rewards of fresh gooseberries and guavas. It was an adventure that one savored day after day as a child exploring the world within a compound.
The new building was large. It was constructed with the latest offerings in the market, glittering white tile floors, shining polished brown doors with dead bolts and hi-tech locks. The bathroom fittings were all sophisticated with multiple taps and tubes. Arty lights adorned the walls and air conditioning was available in all the rooms. The kitchen was well stocked with all forms of utensils and provisions. It was the new age home of the wealthy and one couldn't ask for more and yet my heart wasn't able to feel joy.
In one corner of the compound stood a small concrete tank that adjoined the front facing wall of the house. Memories of skinny dipping in it came to me. Appatha would yell from the house saying that was the water we had for the day as water supply was scant, regardless of which I enjoyed my bath while my dad and Ayya stood laughing at my antics. Adjoining this tank was a well. It was home to a group of sparrows that got jittery whenever I was close by. They would go in an out of the well with twigs and feathers to cosy up their nest. The well had disappeared now. Only the tank stood testimony to my brief but wonderful childhood memories of my grandparents home.
As I look at the modern building and the old ramshackle tank I felt deep sadness. With time even the current vestiges would disappear and give way for more new buildings. That would no doubt garner quite a phenomenal economic value, but who is to tell the world that memories matter more?
My nostalgic moments which brought a smile to my face ended with a frown brought by the knowledge that I was seeing my childhood being chipped away, brick by brick.
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