"The Home of 60's"

Many-Many Happy returns of the day Baba…  

At a time where I figured, I have grown out of my roots and am about to take flight, I am reminded about where I come from and how my family helped me grow through it all.

Disappointments. Heartbreaks. Tears and Laughter. Joy. Celebrations of all sorts. Birth & Marriage; new additions to the family tree.

And death. How the only certain thing in life (besides tax!) changes our lives and the whole dynamics of this nucleus.

Now let me ignite the flight which flies me to my roots….

An angel with golden grey hairs messaged my body with red oil in the sunny afternoon on the cot…

Her love is extremely pure & pious. Sans any expectations. She never disagreed to my choices; & never denied my demands... I was thinking of her & a smile tickled ma face... 

And even though I am all grown up today but at heart I will always be grandmas lil boi.

The family must always remain one was his choice. Use your manners; don’t talk back, the etiquettes & the good habits which I now hold it’s just because of the traditions taught by him, My Baba (grandpa).

To tie all in a single thread & to keep them happy even…it’s not an easy job. With an average salary raising your family to its best & even helping the needy is truly a honorable task. And the person should be worshipped.

Today is his birthday. The whole of my life is dedicated to him.

Like a wheel, we go up and down. Intermittently. Like tides that come and go. I draw this similarity with my family relations. Awfully dysfunctional at times. And totally bursting with love and affection (when the stars align to make this miracle possible).

रेहट

Some things just stand the test of time. Free of woes and worries as they remain; as they are steadfast in their own right. As such this family's policies and practices have stayed. How the young should conform to expectations and fill in the boxes designed for them. Oh how easy it is to follow!

This is my family. A band of relatives & cousins & I call them “Tiwaries”. This is the first marriage which was arranged in front of me, I mean the one which I clearly remember from when I could lock my memory.

Kutumbh

Baba, Babu Chacha, Chachi & Amma (left-right)

Now this was an event which made my Grandpa free from all responsibilities... Marriage of his youngest son was his last wish. Now he just had to enjoy his retirement life with Amma. 

All the family members forced them to stay with us in the city but my our elders find their refuge in Kasnap (my native place in Jharkhand). 

Generation after generation, this beloved family of mine have succumbed to the trend (culture & traditions framed by seniors). Everyone followed till it came to our generation. Most decided to step out of the box, crave a direction for themselves but with only one foot out of the door.

  

And the change began from my name, T.SUKESH.. Surname as the initial :-p , humor aside...

but WE (my generation, me n my band of brothers & sisters) went against the future that was drafted out meticulously by the elders. 

And for a while, we were the black sheep of the family. People fear what they do not know. We were not exiled per se, thankfully. I guess it takes a while for a group of conservatives to open up their minds to new ideas.

Things aren't all rosy and pretty yet. Not just yet. But we're getting there. :)

Probably it is true. Nothing breaks the blood that binds. Sturdy foundations of our family. Change is coming but we are all in it together.

Now I will intoduce you to my Bade Baba, a strong man who loved his family like anything & favored us for everything. 

Bade Baba.

When I write about my Grandparents I get driven into my origion, my days of yore... in my HOME OF 60's

HOME OF 60's 

 

Those toddler days of yore...

When I ran unclad on the Koyal’s shore…

When the only thing which hurted

Were my bruised knees…

When my Baba’s shoulder was the peak for me…

When I could not slumber until my Amma swathes me in her arms….

Those toddler days of yore…

Those toddler days of yore…

When marbles & rolling tyer n stick were my only toys…

When my chuckling was the loudest jingle in home…

When I awaited long for mangoes to ripe…

When I planted saagvan for my prospect life

When my boring water pressure was far loving then my imported showers

How badly I miss …

My toddler days of yore…

When my HOME OF 60’s was my only refuge,

When I gravely visualized the bed time stories,

When hear me sing a gospel song made Amma so proud

When my Baba’s words of wisdom were my guiding lights…

When slate n pencil gave me 1000 chances to write n correct,

Oh toddler days of mine…

How badly I miss them…

When didi’s fought to clutch me their arms,

When Nikhil was my only & the best friend…

When I shared the daily school bustles & mum n didi heeded interestingly..

When I fearlessly rode bicycles downhill even when the breaks fail…

When I climbed tress n jumped down just to boast...

When at sunset I ran miles behind my cattle’s in the coast..

Those were the toddler days…

I miss them…

Now it has been a while…

Since I last dove in the mad waves of Koyal…

Since I have last slept in Amma’s arms with the stories of good & devil…

Since I last shared every happening with my mum…

Since I last cried & fought for chocolates…

Since I last went on morning walks with BABA…
Since dad took me for long rides on Rx135

Since Babuchacha last wrote letters & said “beta peda kha”

Since Nikhil held my finger & ran after calling “bhaiya bhaiya”

Since my didi’s lifted me their arms, OOPS they can’t do this anymore lol.. :-p

But I miss it all…

In my heart’s most precious chamber they dwell…

Words appear me short when I spell…

I may find the salt rock dissolved in water…

But my childhood lost in me...

I wish if I could stumble on …

The innocent days of yore have long past us by.

How I miss them. But all that's left to do is to keep walking forward. Keep walking.

The world would have crumbled and we wouldn't have cared one bit. It was perfection. It was heaven. It was all ours for that time. And we could hear silence in its truest form. Bliss?

Just me. You. With the waves and the sand on the shores of the Koyal. 

Out of the darkness that covers us, brightly shining stars and the crescent moon paint out the night sky for us.

It's been a while. And I need a break. Let's go back.

A glimpse of my childhood & my family....

Bring Me Back There!

Nikhil & me

Baba

 Baba at My age :-)

Me & bhai in the fields of Kasnap.

Mummy n Papa.

Didi's, Tejus & Gauri.

My Home in Singrauli.

This photo is of the scholarship event, my family organizes ever year in the memory of my Baba on 4th April on his B'day. 

 

Leaving us was never his choice. I could never forget the day of the news. So pale, so alone was my Amma, emotions were high, people were tense.. It was only a matter of time..Each of us took turns, sitting by his side.. Knowing in our hearts, this kind, wound..

If I write more I will burst...

Sukesh