This is Shantikunj, the first home I ever knew. Today, Feb 14th 2009, my youngest brother moved into his palatial condo in Thane a verdant suburb of Mumbai. And a page of my childhood was turned forever.
I have an overflowing heart right now, spoke to Kshitij, my brother. Asked him the very question he has asked me since I married and moved on to other homes: "Does it feel the same". And he said to me: " Kinda, you know how it is". Days will move forward. He will get used to the greenery outside his window and he will make new memories. And in the midst of that, Shantikunj will beckon, with all the memories we have there. Who says that the old house is empty? All the days that we spent together are there waiting for us to return and reclaim them. After all, marbled floors, however precious, do not replace the cold floors of my mother's kitchen. And we all get it: that is the gift.
Here is a poem I had written long ago.
Memories
The sultry air, the promise of rain,
A certain smell in a passing train,
Summers past and pleasure
Thrills
Raw mangoes from a tall tree,
Well water and ferry rides,
Bicycling in the fields,
Kites on the hillock,
Hatching butterflies and chickens,
Wind in our hair
Long drives, dark nights
And sandy beaches.
Special outings and memories
We move on
Life takes us away
From the days that were such fun
Special moments
The first rains still recall.
I look back all those years ago
We were children together
Do you remember?
The sultry air, the promise of rain,
A certain smell in a passing train,
Summers past and pleasure
Thrills
Raw mangoes from a tall tree,
Well water and ferry rides,
Bicycling in the fields,
Kites on the hillock,
Hatching butterflies and chickens,
Wind in our hair
Long drives, dark nights
And sandy beaches.
Special outings and memories
We move on
Life takes us away
From the days that were such fun
Special moments
The first rains still recall.
I look back all those years ago
We were children together
Do you remember?
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