dnudnu1

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 33

The child smiles, and then laughs…a full throated laugh it is, he has seen through the charade…he KNOWS that it is a game, temporary, impermanent, it will not last. The wall WILL break down, eventually…everything has a lifespan. The child in me has realised what the adult in me has forgotten…or never known. No walls, no boundaries, no divisions are permanent. The child can know, innately, through…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 32

But the child persists, he will not leave his perch in front of the wall, the unyielding, unforgiving structure made of brick and mortar and ‘bad feelings’…he can feel them, he does not know what it is but in his heart, in his soul, in his bones he can feel something is wrong. And yet he stands his ground, looking at the wall as if it will give way anytime and let him climb the now-demolished…

[dnudnu1]

The house the built me and the legend of Enūma Eliš - 31

I turn away from the small room where Nanaji spent most of his life and walk towards the small, ill-lit passage which leads out, and where opens the steep and narrow stairwell leading to the first floor of the house. Just outside the passage, on the right side, is the door leading to the drawing room with its own treasure of curiosities for young children. But first, I must try to reach the first…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 30

From the hospital room, my mind floats back to the iron gate where I find myself standing once more, living my childhood again, looking at myself running around the house, into the room, the kitchen, the dining room, and that small room where Nanaji lives… The walls of the house have suddenly become diaphanous, and I can see through them, see the hustle bustle happening inside, while I still…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 29

I sit with Nanaji in a hospital room, more of a hospice actually, which opens out on to a spacious verandah occupied by other family members who whisper amongst themselves and occasionally look at the two of us talking quietly. My mother is there, as is my maternal aunt, and my maternal uncles, all three of them, some of them with their spouses as well. Nani is there too, looking nonchalant, as…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 28

I am still standing outside the iron gate, looking at my life flash before my eyes, reliving my past again. I can see the young boy with soft, brushed hair, wearing a collared t-shirt, shorts, and rubber slippers sit by the side of the old man with white hair, and look up at him with curiosity, eager to talk to him, to initiate a conversation. ‘Nanaji’, I start, ‘does God exist?’ There, I have…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 27

I run, and skip, and jump and waltz as I enter the old house bustling with activity. Servants walk around finishing their chores, women are seated in a corner of the courtyard, talking, chopping vegetables, making pickles, peeling mangoes for chutney, gossiping…they sit around the lady of the house…the one with the loud voice, and louder laughter… ‘Anshu‘, she exclaims as she spies me skip into…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 25

The wind is in my hair, the smell of burning coal assaults my nostrils…it’s a happy smell, a harbinger of good times, and travel to far off towns. Along with the smell comes the sound, the cantankerous cacophony, sweet melody to my ears, of a steam engine groaning and chugging as it pulls the train, onwards and onwards, moving forward inexorably like life itself. We are traveling to Gorakhpur, to…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me—24

I sit at the laptop, my fingers frozen in air…unable to type…unable to think… What has happened? Is the story of the houses which built me over? Far from it. Have the creative juices, which propelled the words out of my heart and on to the laptop, stopped flowing? Why is it difficult to find words now? To find the flow, the rhythm? It is a hiatus, a break in continuity, a limbo in which I find…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me—23

But we will not climb the guava tree today, nor the dark and gnarled mango tree, which stands quietly on one side of the lawn, surveying the gradual and inevitable decadence of the house that built me. Decadence is a natural law; it is inevitable. What is created will be destroyed one day; what is born must die; what is built must be unbuilt…man or material universe, everything follows this…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 22

I wake up, as if from a sleep, from a dream within a dream…for wasn’t I dreaming of the house and then of my tour inside it to begin with? Hadn’t the past and the present dissolved in my dream to present a fantastic phantasmagoria of characters and events, expressing longing and sadness, and melancholy…hadn’t the past itself risen from the dead in my dreams and taken on a life of its own and…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 21

Now I have started to descend from the timanjil, slowly, cautiously, trying not to stir the other memories which lie along the way, between the layers of dust…yes, we must not wake them up for they will then demand to be heard…no, no, no we can not go on like this forever…stories, and stories, and stories… Some stories must not be raked…they must lie quietly amongst the darkness and the dust and…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 20

But we can not stay at the first floor terrace all the time, even though we seem to be enjoying ourselves playing cricket, and badminton, and scratch-your-name-on-the-moss-covered-wall game…even though the terrace offers us a great view of the brick-paved veranda below with all its bustle, men, women, children, and animals…even though many memories still lie silently inside the locked rooms we…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 19

I stand in the house all alone, surrounded by my memories and by the ghosts of days past, which whisper to me with hoarse voices from behind the cobwebs and from the dark corners of the now silent house. They speak to me of an old man and an old woman who no longer live here except in spirit, and of their children and their grandchildren who also no longer live here, except as shadows of the…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me - 18

When Babuji passed away, a cord was broken—a tether that kept things together, which tied us to each other and to the house. The anchor that had stabilized the ships of our individual lives, the rudder that had given them direction, and the sail that had buoyed us out of our dark moments was gone. His passing away was a turning point for all of us, but most of all for Amma, his companion for more…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me-17

The visions have all faded one by one, leaving me standing quietly in the brick veranda of the old house, immersed in memories, dreaming of days past, still listening to voices from an age that is long gone…the ghosts of the past float past me, circling, whispering…and what do they whisper? The figure…the smell…mortar…cow…tubewell…Shivram…Baba…I am glitching…my thoughts erratic, confused,…

[dnudnu1]

The house that built me—16

There are other apparitions too…they come and they go…there are two-year-olds, and ten-year-olds, and twelve year olds…they run around the house creating a splendid ruckus. Meetu bhaiya is here, and Nikku didi, and Pinki, and Rahul, and Garima… we are all getting ready to go to Narayanpur, our ancestral village. A jeep has been hired, and we all pile in…and there is our Ambassador car…