Disclaimer : This is highly emotional post for me; as it concerns my old home. I haven't paid attention to anything except pouring my heart out here. It is heavily pounded with my feelings and may sound drab for you... even then I choose to write this.
As much as I hate to admit to my emotional side, this post is contradictory to that.
I was a gawky lil', innocent 6 yr old when we came to stay at Pune... at Darpan. I do not remember the day when we came to stay there... I can hardly reminisce any memories of me and my brother crying till eyes bulged because we'd to shift to Pune permanently away from our maternal grandparents... nor do i know anything about the hard time that we gave to our mother during the process of settling down.... Thus, Darpan has always been my home, since I remember.
It was a beautiful house with a biiig drawing room, kitchen big enough to accommodate the dining table for 6 and the fridge and still leave space for 5 people at a time, 2 large bedrooms with a balcony for each. It had an amazing layout, that not many houses can boast of. It appealed to that 6 yr old girl and that 11 yr old boy because it had a lot of space to run behind each other during fist fights. We made this house, our home, and welcomed it into our lives and heart just as it had to us.
My home was my heaven, my haven. I've spent a major part of my life there. I've not just grown up there, but I've evolved there. Right from being a cranky 6 to sweet 16.... from a girl to a teenager to the threshold of being a lady...all happened there. That house has seen my transition : physical, mental and psychological. It was a sanctury that I looked forward to coming back each day from school. It has witnessed our lives for 15 long years : good days, bad days..every single thing.
We sold the house 3 yrs back for unavoidable reasons. I realise we just sold the house, not our home, not the memories. And since the 3 years, whenever we go there, we dare to lift our eyes up at the second floor and remind ourselves of the wonderful time we'd had there. The person who's bought it had rented it out to a computer institute.... though we couldn't be in there, we could atleast see our house.
Recently, when I went there and casually glanced up, there were workers breaking down the walls of my house. I was frozen... I couldn't move... I just stood there watching the remains of the walls of my room hitting the ground... I could see the chunks of concrete lying there... the paint which we had choosen lovingly for our bedrooms. They had just done away with both our balconies. Tears sprung up in my eyes then and there. With the each hammer blow, i felt a knife piercing my insides. I just couldn't stand there any longer.
Yet when I knew I'd have no courage to climb the stairs and see what is not remaining; I went there, again after some days with my cousin and my mother... just to see ..... And it was a very unwelcoming sight. The walls had disappeared, the kitchen was gone, it was just an empty space with pillars staring back at me. This was when I'd flashing memories of everything that took place in those 15 years.
1. I blowed bubbles with V in the balcony.
2. We tied strings to the polythene bags and flew them like kites from the same balcony, since we didn't have a common terrace.
3. We played Holi in our bathroom with hot water because mom didn't let us go out and play as the finals were nearing.
4. I fought with V and cried myself to sleep because I wanted to put up my Hrithik Roshan poster on the same wall where he's already pasted his Sachin Tendulkar one.
5. Mom refused to give me money to buy a new top because there was not a single penny at home.
6. V, me and mom made pizzas at home.
7. V got really great marks in 10th and 12th.
8. I got good grades in 10th n 12th.
9. My grandpa expired.
10. My dad bought us, our first new car.
11. Guests came in everyday at 7 and disrupted our study time.
12. Saw mom running a successful creche with 15+ children.
13. Played hide n seek and teacher-teacher with those kids.
14. V met with an accident.
15. Me, dad and mom met with an accident.
16. Rearranged furniture in the house at regular intervals.
17. Distributed Diwali sweets to neighbours, hindus, christians alike.
18. Johnson uncle sending Black forest cake every christmas without fail.
19. Making killas during Diwali.
20. Fighting with friends.
21. Bought new AC.
22. sat up whole night when cousins came.
23. turned V's arm black and blue when he called my friends stupid.
... and so many more uncountable memories came crumbling down in front of me. My favorite corner in my bedroom had vanished, the rooms in which our mom locked us up during extreme fights were laid bare. The kitchen where we spent our summer Rasna time wasn't there. There were only workers with their hammers staring at a silly girl that was standing there and wiping off her tears.
I was unable to hold this surge of emotions in me. I just stood still and cried silently... and yet through that hazy vision I could see myself running around my home, loitering in the passage, studying in the balcony... and I couldn't yet believe that all this was no more. The house which we had turned into a home had died a silent death and all I could do was CRY. That night I couldn't get it out of my head. I kept replaying the images of my home and the proposed showroom in my mind. I kept cursing the fellow who bought our house, I kept wishing that my dad should've been a multimillionaire to afford a second house w/o having to sell the first one. I shed tears again. And I shamelessly admit, that I do each time I remember 8 Darpan Apts... I did, several times, while doing this post.
ETA : now we live in another house in the same area... it is bigger and better, a dream house and yet has provided us the warmth of our old house. We all love to love it. and as long as I live, this house is not going anywhere.