I am on the verge of moving out of this city to a new city again. Given my Dad's transferable job, I have been party to such shifts, time & again in my life of slightly over 3 decades. The only difference is, earlier it was because of Dad's job. Now it is because of my own.
However, the shifts entail the same things - sorting out books that I could keep vs. donate; sorting out clothes that can be used in packing the delicate glass, that can be given away and the clothes that must be packed properly in the suitcase; looking at the furniture and deciding what to dispose, what to give to relatives / friends in the town, what to sell off; and then finally starting the packing.
This shifting of every 3 to 4 years was in a way a cleansing ritual. Not just that, it almost seemed to challenge us - in a mild way though - ready to start from the scratch again? New place, new surroundings, new people and lack of the comfort corner you had created for yourself in the earlier town / city... How will you deal with all this change?
The experience of moving out to a new city doesn't seem to have changed even now, after so many years. The good thing, is I seem to fall in love easily with places. I love their nuances and have somehow taught myself to not get carried away by either their vastness and exposure to technology or their remoteness from the same. The only thing that continues to carry me away though, is the closeness of the new place to Nature. Every place has its beauty as long as the people of the place respect the same, while respecting each other.
Anyway, coming back to my shifting now... I was packing the utensils yesterday and yes, in my bedroom by the deodar trees... While packing them I suddenly heard some giggles - giggles of a little boy...
In a flash, I saw myself sitting in the hall just before the day of Diwali, 4 years back, unpacking a carton of utensils along with Jeet - my nephew, who was just 6 then, and on the verge of being 10 now. I had wanted some new utensils for the house and had ordered this 100 odd piece set of steel utensils while watching some home shopping show on TV. It was a surprise for my Aunt - Jeet's Grand Ma. Thankfully, the order was delivered on the day of Dhanteras. It was Jeet's first experience of staying away from his Mom and be with his Aunt and Grand Ma. He had come to stay with us for the Diwali holidays.
We both spent our evening unpacking the utensils. They were wrapped in transparent polythene. Every time a polythene pack drifted away because of the fan in the room, Jeet used to chase it and get it back. It almost became a game. Either he or I used to allow the packs to drift to some distance and then see who got it back first. And whatever the result was, we both giggled away, with Jeet laughing away and enjoying his stay out of home. Something as uninteresting as unpacking kitchen utensils became a game for a little boy, amusing him to the fullest. He taught me to be happy in these simple ways. He didn't need toys, nor the TV, to be entertained. He just made work seem like a game and was full of joy.
After unwrapping the utensils, we arranged it in the kitchen and took out a sub-set for dinner that evening. Jeet was all thrilled! He had unpacked the set, helped in arranging them in the kitchen and we were having our dinner too now in the same set - the newness about not just the utensils, but also the experience got him so excited! It was a treat to listen to the sweet boy as he talked about his school, his holiday plans and how he enjoyed being with his Grand Ma and me, instead of staying back at home with his parents.
Suddenly, one of the wrappers flew towards the door of the bedroom and I shouted, Jeet - get it! I realized, I was all by myself. My Aunt was in the kitchen, Jeet was in his house. Diwali was over for this year and for the last 3 years and I was packing in my room for the next shift in life.
The giggles echoed in my ears for some more time and I felt tears flowing down my cheeks. The little boy of 6 had grown up, I had grown up - forgotten a bit of the lesson to be happy no matter what. But the echoes of the giggles reminded me of that lesson again, preparing me for the next shift, preparing me for life...
However, the shifts entail the same things - sorting out books that I could keep vs. donate; sorting out clothes that can be used in packing the delicate glass, that can be given away and the clothes that must be packed properly in the suitcase; looking at the furniture and deciding what to dispose, what to give to relatives / friends in the town, what to sell off; and then finally starting the packing.
This shifting of every 3 to 4 years was in a way a cleansing ritual. Not just that, it almost seemed to challenge us - in a mild way though - ready to start from the scratch again? New place, new surroundings, new people and lack of the comfort corner you had created for yourself in the earlier town / city... How will you deal with all this change?
The experience of moving out to a new city doesn't seem to have changed even now, after so many years. The good thing, is I seem to fall in love easily with places. I love their nuances and have somehow taught myself to not get carried away by either their vastness and exposure to technology or their remoteness from the same. The only thing that continues to carry me away though, is the closeness of the new place to Nature. Every place has its beauty as long as the people of the place respect the same, while respecting each other.
Anyway, coming back to my shifting now... I was packing the utensils yesterday and yes, in my bedroom by the deodar trees... While packing them I suddenly heard some giggles - giggles of a little boy...
In a flash, I saw myself sitting in the hall just before the day of Diwali, 4 years back, unpacking a carton of utensils along with Jeet - my nephew, who was just 6 then, and on the verge of being 10 now. I had wanted some new utensils for the house and had ordered this 100 odd piece set of steel utensils while watching some home shopping show on TV. It was a surprise for my Aunt - Jeet's Grand Ma. Thankfully, the order was delivered on the day of Dhanteras. It was Jeet's first experience of staying away from his Mom and be with his Aunt and Grand Ma. He had come to stay with us for the Diwali holidays.
We both spent our evening unpacking the utensils. They were wrapped in transparent polythene. Every time a polythene pack drifted away because of the fan in the room, Jeet used to chase it and get it back. It almost became a game. Either he or I used to allow the packs to drift to some distance and then see who got it back first. And whatever the result was, we both giggled away, with Jeet laughing away and enjoying his stay out of home. Something as uninteresting as unpacking kitchen utensils became a game for a little boy, amusing him to the fullest. He taught me to be happy in these simple ways. He didn't need toys, nor the TV, to be entertained. He just made work seem like a game and was full of joy.
After unwrapping the utensils, we arranged it in the kitchen and took out a sub-set for dinner that evening. Jeet was all thrilled! He had unpacked the set, helped in arranging them in the kitchen and we were having our dinner too now in the same set - the newness about not just the utensils, but also the experience got him so excited! It was a treat to listen to the sweet boy as he talked about his school, his holiday plans and how he enjoyed being with his Grand Ma and me, instead of staying back at home with his parents.
Suddenly, one of the wrappers flew towards the door of the bedroom and I shouted, Jeet - get it! I realized, I was all by myself. My Aunt was in the kitchen, Jeet was in his house. Diwali was over for this year and for the last 3 years and I was packing in my room for the next shift in life.
The giggles echoed in my ears for some more time and I felt tears flowing down my cheeks. The little boy of 6 had grown up, I had grown up - forgotten a bit of the lesson to be happy no matter what. But the echoes of the giggles reminded me of that lesson again, preparing me for the next shift, preparing me for life...
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