WINDOW OF MY HOME, MY HEART- ch 1

Those rusty hinges of the main gate,

Will squeak one more time!

The twirling staircase encased on each floor would get me to halt,

To catch the view of the beautifully manicured garden down

And finally run further upstairs to become the delight of those forever waiting eyes,

Those loving hugs and cuddles!

I know I am missing home when I start revisiting the memory space occupying the various montages of not just home but its periphery as well. I start remembering the city forest I used to visit once a while with Dad. I remember the age old Kirana and icecream parlour ‘Premi uncle ki dukaan’. I want to go back to the crowded local GK (and have plates-ful of delicious Momos), Kalkaji Market and the E block Mandir where I somehow religiously go whenever I am home. I Love talking those long walks with mom on her various reasons to walk for relentless one and a half hours everyday and then feasting on garam garam Jalebi or her favorite Golguppas at Aggarwal sweets. Coming back home to some TV per bakwaas and to discover my mother’s new found love for desi latka jhatkas in innumerable dance shows that shard prime time of all channels. Ghar ki dal roti is always the most delightful part of coming home. Mom’s special ingredient is always there – love which is combined with ladles and ladles of care and affection. Looking at my mother every time and the smallest things that she does for me I realize the reason why I get all mushed up when I listen to any soppy, emotional, bollywood song on ‘Maa’… suddenly, that dialogue that we have forever made fun of starts making so much sense: “Mere paas maa hai’!!  Honestly I still don’t think we have gotten used to the fact that we don’t live together anymore. I guess the toughest part about changing cities has been staying away from the hugs & comforts of ‘Mom’.