When we were moving to Kolkata, I was heart-broken at having to say good-bye to my amazing friends in Hyderabad. They were an integral part of our everyday life, from doing yoga classes together, breakfast parties, evening tea, evening walks and children’s play times together. So, naturally, the one thing I really prayed and hoped for was a good neighbour.
The day of moving in was tough; the usual chaos of boxes being unpacked faster than you can put the stuff away, the insane humidity and heat and the very late lunch. After running out of all our bottles of water, I took the brave step of meeting the neighbour. I rang the doorbell and waited anxiously. What if they were very rude or unruly people? What if there was a psychopath for a neighbour? In the brief time that it took for the door to be opened, I imagined crazy worst-case scenarios. The door was answered by a lady my mother’s age and after introducing myself, I asked her if I could have some water. (Now, I am reminded of the 90’s Pepsi Ad, featuring Aamir Khan, Aishwarya Rai and Mahima Choudhary. I pretty much said something similar but asked for water instead of Pepsi.) She gave me lots of cold water and asked me to come back for more whenever I needed to. I was happy to see that the worst-case scenarios remained just that.
A few weeks later, I lost my mother and was in Bengaluru for a while. On my return, Aunty was an oasis of calm and steadfast friendship. Her house had a soothing, Zen-like quality.
She started stocking her fridge with some chocolates for my daughter. Slowly, she formed her own friendship with aunty. Soon, aunty was spending hours colouring with her, solving jigsaw puzzles and listening to countless stories about school. She always fed us amazing Matar Kachuri, Alu Dum and the Kaju Katlis from the famous Balram Mullick.
It’s these kinds of people that make childhood so special and make memories for a lifetime.
We were having a good time in each other’s company; our move to Mumbai was going to end that. Aunty had lived in Mumbai for some years and used to always talk fondly about it. In a few months, I visited the place where she had dined with her family and took late night walks. I couldn’t wait to tell her all about it. When I did, she was so happy reminiscing again.
We were a different set of people, at the same place at different times, making similar memories.
Love how the matrix of life brings us together at certain points in time and not at any other. I needed Aunty in Kolkata more than I needed her in Mumbai all those years ago, I guess.