21st August, 2012
11:30am
Some of my cousins
(L-R - Manimoy, Sanchari. Shankhajit, Me, Monoseej)
Some days are custom-made for nostalgia. Just like today. It's mid-August. The year has been almost rainless. The morning was cloudy. I didn't expect rain, as such cloudy days have betrayed rain quite a few times in the past couple of months. But as the day progressed, it started to drizzle. And it has been so for the last couple of hours. Sitting comfortably by the window of a bus, and listening to light semi-classical music on my phone, blurred flashes of my childhood are crossing my heart.
I grew up in the mountains, but in Kolkata we had our big house with our big joint family. I remember the times when I used to come here during the holidays. My memory of the house is filled with happy noise which gave me, and perhaps everybody in the house, a sense of security. I used to play with my brother and cousins. Because I came mainly during the holidays, such visits were usually made happier with large get-togethers.
The breakfasts, the lunches, and the dinners were all taken at the great big dining hall, all the members together. My Bomma (Borojethima) used to give us tok doi mixed with a hint of salt in small bowls after the lunch.
We played lukochuri, kanamachhi, rumalchor, ikir-mikir and what not!
And I remember the big kitchen where someone or the other was always cooking something or the other all through the day! (We are a happy-eating family, you see!)
I remember having my first phuchka with Dadabhai when they used to come 6 for Re.1!! (It will cost you Re.1 for each piece now :-/ )
And I remember so much more, but can pen down so less, because they have now become my heart's beats. They have become intimate with my breathing that I can't separate them into words anymore. They are only to be felt on such continuously nostalgic days.
P.S. - Dedicated to all my family members who are a part of this nostalgic journey. :-)
11:30am
(L-R - Manimoy, Sanchari. Shankhajit, Me, Monoseej)
Some days are custom-made for nostalgia. Just like today. It's mid-August. The year has been almost rainless. The morning was cloudy. I didn't expect rain, as such cloudy days have betrayed rain quite a few times in the past couple of months. But as the day progressed, it started to drizzle. And it has been so for the last couple of hours. Sitting comfortably by the window of a bus, and listening to light semi-classical music on my phone, blurred flashes of my childhood are crossing my heart.
I grew up in the mountains, but in Kolkata we had our big house with our big joint family. I remember the times when I used to come here during the holidays. My memory of the house is filled with happy noise which gave me, and perhaps everybody in the house, a sense of security. I used to play with my brother and cousins. Because I came mainly during the holidays, such visits were usually made happier with large get-togethers.
The breakfasts, the lunches, and the dinners were all taken at the great big dining hall, all the members together. My Bomma (Borojethima) used to give us tok doi mixed with a hint of salt in small bowls after the lunch.
We played lukochuri, kanamachhi, rumalchor, ikir-mikir and what not!
And I remember the big kitchen where someone or the other was always cooking something or the other all through the day! (We are a happy-eating family, you see!)
I remember having my first phuchka with Dadabhai when they used to come 6 for Re.1!! (It will cost you Re.1 for each piece now :-/ )
And I remember so much more, but can pen down so less, because they have now become my heart's beats. They have become intimate with my breathing that I can't separate them into words anymore. They are only to be felt on such continuously nostalgic days.
P.S. - Dedicated to all my family members who are a part of this nostalgic journey. :-)
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