The garden was in full bloom, fragrant flowers of different colors. It was spring after all. The wind brought along the familiar scent of home. It was slightly chilly. From the balcony in the garden the whole of Shillong appeared picturesque, bathed in the golden sunlight. I walked to mom and dad’s bedroom windows, peeped in trying to see past the white net curtains. But the curtains were now blue in color. Strange.
I concentrated hard and there it was the room I had spent so many years in. But something was not right. It was not the same. The bed was smaller and not placed next to the windows overlooking the valley beyond. The very bed where all four of us took our naps on Sunday afternoons; talking, laughing and then finally falling asleep. The cabinet that stored our piggy banks wasn’t there either. Perplexed I looked from one corner to the other. Even the dressing table, standing in front of which mom always tied our hair for school, was replaced. Nothing that belonged to us was there in that room anymore. But how was that even possible? Apparently, though it was. The television that we spent hours watching was swapped by another. Despite the fact that it was the same room, our mom and dad’s room, it somehow seemed stripped of its quintessence.
Something was terribly wrong. I walked to the windows of the living room next and there were unknown people inside. Not mom, not dad, not even my sister. A new family was sitting in a sofa set which was nothing like ours. It was brown and not bottle green. And somehow that broke my heart. They had a linoleum carpet spread out instead of our beautiful Kashmiri one. Who were these folks and what were they doing in our home? When I couldn’t take it anymore I turned away. But then I saw the car in the garage, it wasn’t my dad’s. Reluctantly I walked towards the windows of my and my sister’s room. Our study tables, the cane chairs, bed and shelves were all gone. Our red and white cabinet where we kept pictures of our favorite actors, ones we had crushes on, was also not there. I felt tears rushing through my eyes, burning my cheeks as they gushed out. My home, the home of my most precious memories, had been invaded to make room for someone else’s. It had changed, even looked withered and I felt its pain. And then with a strange sensation of loss, I suddenly woke up to find myself miles away in Bangalore in a new home, now my own home.
I grew up in Shillong and it has been over 2 years since I’ve been there. Too many memories to even count. I don’t know if it’s natural but I feel like a part of me is still there. It happens, doesn’t it? Years on years pile on but the rapport remains, doesn’t matter with a place or a person. Time and distance apart seem meaningless. Consciously or subconsciously my heart always yearns to visit Shillong, a bizarre, invisible pull. I miss the cottage that was my home for 12 years. The last time I was there was in the year 2012. I had even gone to the cottage, stood outside wishing I could just go in like I used to. The fact that someone else was now living in the home that once used to be ours was a fact too difficult to process. Of-course changes like these are natural. But natural or not, it was and still is a change I never can enjoy. So as I stood there looking at the house that once used to be my home I felt stripped of the rights to call it my own. It was like sharing a part of me I had never wanted to share in the first place. Maybe that’s why the dream, so real and so perturbing. I don’t know if I can ever emotionally let go of that house. Maybe I will never be able to. But that’s alright. Don’t you think so too?
Before you go tell me have you ever had such a dream, so real that it almost made you cry? Have your memories reached out to you in your dreams?
Loved the way you had described your old home,'the curtains, the mirror everything'..yes, it happens to everyone .When we live in the same place fO many days & some random day we leave it cz of some reason….but those memories will forever stay in our ♥.
Your questions really made me think. Yea, a few times my dreams made me cry wen they rewinded my memories !!!…
This post of was so touching. I was brought up in a small city in UP and my parents are still there. For some reasons, I have not been able visit the place that is actually my home for the last 3 years now and it does hurt. As we grow up, so much changes, sometimes we name it priority and sometimes something else but nothing can change the place we call home!
as I stood there looking at the house that once used to be my home I felt stripped of the rights to call it my own. It was like sharing a part of me I had never wanted to share in the first place. This is life and there are changes a lot in the life.
I'm sure I have had such dreams though none that I recall at this particular moment in time.
Such a poignant post for your Naba…sorry to hear. I hope you are able to eventually come to terms with your loss; however, perhaps you can ask questions such as (1) Why can't I let go of Shillong? (2) What does Shillong have to teach me? (3) What can I do to let go of Shillong? (when you are ready if you want to, that is. Hope that helps, though regardless, it is your decision to do what feels right in your heart.
I've had many dreams of my house in Mumbai but it's always been just the way it was when I left. Sadly my house is now torn down to make way for a multi storey building. But the memories remain and a part of my soul will always be there. Lovely post Naba.
Lovely post. I ve stayed in so many houses as a kid…but I only dream of my first home as my home in my dreams!
I been away from my home for 3 years now… how I miss my room, my books, dolls, scooty, my terrace, the rooftop on which i used to lay down just to stare at the stars for hours. But now when I go back to my home back, I miss my present house… this room. Guess, wherever we go, we leave a piece of our heart there… and then it's ours. Always.
This feels like a post straight from your heart, Naba! Some places, some houses are like that – they feel so alive in our hearts for a long, long time to come. Maybe it has to do with the way our energy and the energy of that place/space meshed together. Who knows? But the feeling is very real. And you captured that feeling very well in your words here.
Beautifully written. It was a pleasure to read.
I don't know how I would react if someone else would start living in my home. It would be like losing all the memories to someone else. Losing a part of me that wasn't supposed to belong to anyone else. I haven't been home long and slowly the homesickness is seeping in. Beautiful Post naba. You always touch a chord in my heart.
I experience this from time to time. I will revisit my childhood home or the homes of my grandparents which are no more. It amazes me how I can remember them all in such vivid detail…how real they still are to me even though they are no more and haven't been for years. I hope I never lose those memories because it is always so nice to go home…even if only in our memories! ♥
This was so evocative! I can relate to this post. I experienced this feeling of restlessness and feeling of loss when I visited my granny's place. In place of the fields where crops used to grow and we used to play, climb trees were high rise buildings. The cow sheds were replaced with rooms for families, the hand pump was replaced with a borewell…. The only thing that remained as it was earlier was the main gate, rest was all re-designed and modernized and a new family was staying there. Memories of the past never fade and I would not like to let go of such memories!
Such a touching and poignant post on the power of memories and how they can pull at you in your dreams. Your dream was so vivid and well described that I felt like I was right there. Yes, I've had dreams similar to that of going back in hopes that things would be the same and they weren't.
Even in reality, when I've gone back to a place where I lived as an airforce kid, it's not the same anymore and most of all, I'm not the same either. So sad that things have to change and we have to learn to let our attachments go. I'm learning about acceptance more and more as I age. At least we still have our memories….
I always have trouble commenting on your blog from my phone. :/ Coming to the post, so many beautiful memories you brought to us through the post. The only place that evokes these memories in me is my paternal grandfather's home in Unnao. I haven't been back there since almost 2 decades. Now my grandparents are gone and both my uncle and aunt are gone too. One cousin lives there and the palatial home is in a state of disrepair too. I heard they are planning to sell it. In my mind's eye, it is still a beautiful bungalow ringing with our laughter.
Glad you like it Akshitha…
So true Parul…Strange how life changes after we grow up…
Sad but true …Thanks for visiting Yogi
True Ell… I guess I know the answers to the questions.. It's just that I can never let go…It was after all the place I spent most of my life in…It's where I learnt the basics of life.. I guess that's why it keeps coming back..
You said it Suzy I guess a part of our sould remains which keeps calling us from time to time and hence the rapport…Glad you liked the post 🙂
Thanks Richa 🙂
You said it Sheethal..A part of us keeps the attachment intact for us
'Maybe it has to do with the way our energy and the energy of that place/space meshed together. ' This makes so much sense Beloo…
Glad you liked it 🙂
Thanks Kalpanaa 🙂
Thanks Rajlakshmi..So glad that you can connect to my posts…
True Kathy…even if it's in memories, the memories are so wonderful that I just want to keep revisiting those
Me too Shilpa…These memories are something that I would never want to let go of..!
Thanks Cathy… Acceptance is hard especially when it is about people or places we have to let go of…. But what can we do…
So sorry Rachna..don't know what the issue could be…
Glad that my post could bring some memories for you too… The past holds so many dear things for us and we just can't let go of it, can we?