Rendezvous between past and present

Memories are murky, as if wrapped by a thick film of dust of time. He vaguely identifies the road. He knows very well the National Highway No-16. The reminiscent of the once dilapidated road was clearly visible. The new cemented road could not hide the weight of the past that it carries, so does the new avatar of him. A lot has changed; still it seems to be the same. The old temple surrounded by the same old trees and the old well. His memories were trying to relive the past-moments as he passed by the highway.

The village is no longer the same, it has transformed to a “Quasba”(Block). With a “branded garments” Shoppe replacing the Paanwala-shop, that happened to be their favorite hangout. The “Chougadda” is now called “Square”. Still, there is sense of belongingness, the very air is same. He could literally sense the dampness and the scent of the soil. How can he forget? It is not obligation, rather he was feeling every ounce of these memories pounding somewhere in his heart. He could literally see the ghost of his past roaming around. He could see the once old playground, now been converted to shopping complex. A lot has changed, but nothing has really changed. He wondered if he could find any face that he recognized. He felt like being an outsider in his own home, his own territory. Unable to bear the thoughts and perfectly realizing what next is in store for him, he moved on. On the left, as his breathing rhythm took an upbeat, he knew, the worst has finally arrived. Behind these old wooden doors was something he not just owned, but lived in. Not mere a mud house, but the only home in true sense. Not just a three room structure, but the place where he used to live in with his family; made of wood, supported by wooden pillars, standing tall even after roughly 250 years of its existence. Each object inside the home has old memories associated with it. He would write an encyclopedia for even the tiny copper plate lying on the shelf or a thread hanging around the picture frame.

His steps were heavier, more he stepped into the house and probed things, more he became young; young at heart. Trying to count with fingers, how many years, it had been since he left this place. Perhaps too long- Too long to count with fingers. Smiling at his own stupidity, he again looked at the place; “Yajna-vedi” (a place where people use to perform religious rituals) was standing just in front of the main door. It had seen so many child-births, marriages, and even deaths. Suddenly, his eyes become watery. He is a man, and he is not supposed to cry, His assistant offered a tissue paper, which he thankfully refused. The tears are just not always a result of pains inflicted, and he had learnt this very fact that day. He could actually watch him grow, passing various stages of his life in an instant. He could understand the love and respect he had earned in this home. He was out of breathe, He ran to the roof. He was breathing heavily.

United States-That is where he belongs now, He tried to convince himself, but failed miserably, He never sounded that hollow in his life. On the roof, he could see the amazing landscape of sunset. Soon, the moon will rise and they will go to bed. He would again ask papa to show him the faint star that is near the sixth star of Saptrishi (the Great bear Constellation), and his face turned aligning himself with these two stars to spot the “Dhruv Tara”(Polar star).



“Papa, what is left for us in India? Let us sell the property there- anyways, we don’t need anything, we have all the riches we need, Should we ‘dispose’ off the property?”– When his son said these words, He felt that as if life has been sucked out of a part of him, he immediately decided that he have to go to India, The main reason behind his travel was to collect a few memoirs and return back to US- sound and clear logical action. And now here, standing atop the roof, his mind was racing as never ever before.

Out of zillions of thoughts, suddenly one struck him and all the clouds of uncertainty looming over his logical sense were dispersed. A big smile was visible to the cab driver and security guards standing outside that house, awaiting his orders.

2-months have passed; finally his home would be a home in true sense. He settled in this village finally. Now, this widower is not alone in this home anymore. He has got company of 23-strangers of different ages- from a kid of merely 3 years of age to a 75 years old. They all share one common thing- They were in need of a home; they all were orphans- Having no mother and father. A few had children,just for namesake. Now, they had a reason to live; and for him, it was like re-living different stages of his life all at once. He was feeling the sense of happiness that he had not known for so long. People respected him and knew him as headmaster of the only orphanage-cum-old-age center. He knew this is where he belonged in the true sense. Needless to say, the papers that were prepared for sale of the property are still lying in an old iron box in the basement.