The Days I Remember

We had recently moved to our new house. It was not a big one but somehow I loved it at first sight. The area was just being developed and hence you could find plenty of open fields everywhere. If you moved a little distance, you could even see the mountains. We were the first ones to move into the locality but slowly other people came in. There was this lovely aunty who always gave me something to eat when I went to our house. There was also a group of young guys staying nearby preparing for some exam. These bhaiyas would often come asking for one thing or the other. As a young kid perhaps, you are fascinated by change. I loved putting my things in my room, deciding which poster to be pasted where and on which cupboard to put my favourite books.

My brother and I would sometimes move out in the evenings towards the canal. It was a lovely canal with a beautiful wooden bridge over it. There was also this small private park with wooden fences nearby which was our favourite spot. Whenever one of my friends came to my house, I always made them visit this one. To lie down on the cool green grass and look at the beautiful sunset on the mountains was one of my favourite pastime at that time.Sometimes we would ride on our cycles towards the endless fields. When it would be dark, we would hurry back narrating to each other all the ghost stories we knew. Back in the school,we would swear to everyone about the strange noises we heard over there making it sound the most exciting adventure we had ever had.

We used to play cricket in the evenings with the bhaiyas in the fields. When my mother was not there and we had a plastic ball, we used to play on the roof top. In the winters, we played badminton in the street lights until my mother gave a call that it was too late. Even the colony girls joined us in the game. Therefore, I always thought that badminton was a girly game. And yes, Tommy was always by my side when I played badminton. Tommy had a funny habit of digging up the soil at the exact spot where a new plant was planted, upsetting my father. I loved him. He died a few years back. That house had all my special memories. I was a bit sad when we had to move to the capital for a better college for myself. But then, as I said, you are always fascinated by change.

Coming to my family, I am glad that I have the best father in the world. I have seen all the different shades of him and I love each of them. He can be the strictest disciplinarian at one moment and the coolest dad at the other. He loved gardening. In the weekends, he would sometimes call me and teach how to prune a rose plant and show which manure is best for which plant. I have never been hit by him though my brother has been. Being the younger has its advantages, I guess. If we did something wrong, he would shout at us. But then if we cried, he would come and tickle us till he saw our smile. That was him! When we didnt have a car, he would take us on his scooter to all the pandals during the puja. Though my mother was a good cook, my father was the best. My mother gave the reins of the kitchen to my father during the special occasions and you cant just help licking your fingers when he made his special recipes. Its strange that I remember all the small but happy incidents about him. Guess thats the lovely thing about memories.

My mother is someone whom I could not even dream living without till I came to the hostel here. She was that special to me. With a lovely smile always on her face, she was ready to do anything for us. I always wondered if she had any personal dreams about herself as a child. If she had any, she never showed the dissapointment of sacrificing them for us. She was mad at keeping the house spic-and-span and I always got chided at for messing up the sofa or throwing bits of paper. I remember once when I had fever and could not sleep the whole night, she sat by me putting my head on her lap. Even till now, when I go home, it is my mother who feeds me with her hands. She was weak in no way but sometimes if we didnt listen to her, she silently cried. I am sorry, mom for every reason I have made you cry. I really really miss you.

My brother was always more level-headed than me. Some realtives would ask me to be like my brother. We were more like friends but when we fighted, even God feared to interfere. He was always more shy of the girls than me. Funny that now he has a girlfriend and not me. He was more studious but somehow, I always scored better than him. When we were small, my father always made it a point that when he brought something for him, he brought something for me too. Otherwise I would not talk to anyone till I got that. Now also when Papa got him a bike, he had to buy me a laptop in the same month. He had a childhood dream of becoming a doctor and some years from now, he would be one. I wish that everything he wishes comes true.

This puja, all of us were at home and it was wonderful. It was more special because we all live at different places now. My brother is at his Medical hostel, I am here, my father works at a different place while my mother stays at the new house in the capital. Sometime soon, my brother would go out for further studies while I will be working somewhere else. Guess how that small, sweet family has now been separated into four small parts, each carrying a small, sweet souvenir in their heart. Change is no more fascinating.