Stress and Joy of
Finding
Home for House
“A man travels the
world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.”
George Augustus Moore
On a cloudy afternoon
of mid-September 1966, walking ups and downs, turns and blind streets of
Ballooganj Shimla, along with my B.Com, Govt. Bikram College of Commerce, Patiala
class mate, trying to find out an accommodation or a room for two, because that
was the way in those days: brokers, advance rents, security were missing, we saw
two strangers sometimes before us and sometimes behind us asking the same
question to the locals, “Whether there is a room vacant for rent.” One appeared
to be from the area we belonged to – Punjab and the other looked like from
North-Eastern States, one was lean other had a good built; one was short and
other with normal height, one had wheatish complexion and other fair one but
both were dressed like us in a sweater with pant and coat - a norm with the
office going Shimlanians. After observing for some time, we gathered courage,
went near them and asked what they were looking for; reply was quick and
sarcastic, “Whatever you are looking for.”, perhaps they had also noticed us or
heard what we were asking the locals for. As the conversation developed it
transpired they were from the Punjab University Regional Centre Shimla. My
colleague suggested to these strangers, “We can perhaps live together”. I do
not know what prompted them but they appeared to be in agreement but did not
speak in as many words: subsequently we came to know they were active members
of Punjab University Employees Union, Chandigarh and were sent to Shimla Evening
Classes Centre of the University on transfer as measure of administrative
convenience: perhaps they were thinking how to deal with the differences that
may arise some time. Leaving aside everything even the fear of living with
strangers, one of the stranger Mr. Trilok seconded the proposal of Shri Joshi
my classmate and said, “Yes perhaps we can live together and if all of us agree,
I have a property which one of my bosses want to rent out and I can talk to him.” Joshi my colleague
immediately nodded. All of us perhaps had a sigh of relief that there is ray of
hope and felt relaxed.
While walking down
towards the Mall having the satisfaction of reaching solution, Trilok took us
to Indian Coffee House for a cup of coffee and told to meet him here at 05.30 PM
the next day and in the meantime he would check-up with the his boss.
Next day when all
met: had coffee at the Indian Coffee House: a fascination in those days:
thereafter Trilok took us deep down the Shimla Railway Station: slowly it was
getting dark and number of houses diminishing step by step downward : stopped
walking standing before a grocery shop still having light in it. Trilok: pointed
towards a closed and a dark cottage 10-12 steps down with a lawn outside and
two room windows visible to us without any light: all of us went down walked
5-7 steps in an open side verandah and reached the door. Similar structure
appeared down below also and heard human activity, Trilok confirmed that there
was another family in the lower floor. I had a sense of relief and felt we are
not alone here in this strange structure. Suddenly a flying fox entered the
space between tin and wood-roof of the cottage creating a strange noise. We
were frightened, a thought fluttered my mind, “Why live in such a strange
place.”, but Chauhan said, “Do not bother, it is normal here.” Chauhan opened the lock, switch on the lights;
it was full of dust and webs like an old fort, had two big rooms, one big
covered verandah, a store, a kitchen, separate toilet, bath room and a small
lobby with a back door opening on another side verandah. The rear side of the
cottage had glass windows all over but we could not see anything outside in the
dark. It appeared quite spacious. Trilok said rent is Rs.100 Per Month to be
paid by 5th of each month and for us it was Rs.95 PM say Rs.23.75
each: all of us agreed to occupy.
Next day, perhaps a
Sunday or Saturday all us came down to the cottage: we cleaned it thoroughly:
we were astonished to see a beautiful landscape below full of green trees,
lovely voice of flowing water coming from deep in the ravine and cool breeze blowing
as if tempting us to stay little more and watch the forest below.
In the evening we shifted
there with bag and baggage. Nobody wanted to go up for dinner. Everybody was
tired. Chauhan went to the nearby grocery
shop brought some usual kitchen items like flour, ghee, salt and a few vegetables
and asked Trilok to light the stove and soon I saw he was boiling “Arbies” in a
pan and kneading the flour. All gathered near the stove one by one sitting on
the floor on empty jute bags and Chauhan was making “Arbi ke Paranathe”,
reversing the Punjabi folk: “Rannawale the paken paranthe: chharian dee aag na
bale”: (Exact translation of this Punjabi folk is not possible: however it
means that family man are enjoying parathas and bachelors are able to lit the
hearth even). Paranthas were too tasty with mango pickle Trilok had brought in
his luggage. This was the start of new journey, nobody knew how long it would
last, but everybody started as if we are going stay here in this home forever.
“It was like how people find other people to be in love
with, all random and accidental and lucky.”
― Jennifer Castle
All were early
risers, cooked food at home right from the morning tea, break-fast, packed
lunch and dinner at night: Chauhan was expert in cooking particularly “Rajmah”
and “Rice” slowly myself and Joshi also learnt cooking. Trilok was man of style
and maturity, experienced and a family man with two kids-a boy and a girl: but
his family was at Chandigarh perhaps he was thinking that he would be able to
get his transfer reversed early but it did not happen. For about a year all of
us enjoyed bachelors’ life with occasional booze, chicken and mutton also and
it had become a place of evening gossip, laughter, jokes and office issues
place.
In Sept-Oct 1967, Trilok
wanted to seek our nod for bringing his family to Shimla: we were slightly worried
that we will have to search another accommodation now: anyway all of us in one
voice said “Yes”. Trilok and his family came sometimes in by the end of the
year. They came on a working day when all of us were in office: Mrs. Trilok-Janak,
boy Rakesh was elder and a cute baby Karita. They took one room exclusively for themselves
all other things were common for all of us.
When all of us reached
home in the evening, it had become family man’s home instead of a bachelors
den. What a relief it gave to us I can’t explain. We had a family without a
family. With the exchange of pleasantries, it was getting dark every hour and
the usual dinning time 08.00-09.00 PM was drawing nearer and nearer, when we
heard a sweet voice inviting us all for dinner; all of three were surprised a
little: any way all of us a family of seven took together the homemade dinner
and “Pinnies” as dessert Trilok’s family had brought from Chandigarh, after a
long time. Chit-chat continued for a longtime, when finally I suggested let three
of us have separate kitchen: as soon as I proposed this, Mrs. Trilok simply
said in a dictating and rightful tone that there would be one kitchen for all
and she will cook the meals. We were pleasantly surprised, but rationality said
otherwise. So we insisted to have a separate kitchen and but she persisted with
much stronger voice with a sense of belonging. All of us the three Musketeers
and in the modern sense three Idiot were confused what to do and what not to
do. Trilok said, “It is already late, let us sleep now and we can decide it
later.” Everybody left, whether slept or not nobody knows.
Before, we could get
up or at least I was awake, there was a sweet female voice calling, “Bhai Sahib
tea, lying beside your bed.” that was Mrs. Trilok calling one by one everybody
and then cuddling with her baby. The day
started. Before we were ready for office, I saw four packets lying on the
Kitchen shelf: I thought something must have been brought from Chandigarh home.
All of us usually started for office at the same time and when that time came
that day, Mrs. Trilok handed over every person one packet saying it was his
lunch. Nobody had the guts to say no.
Obviously the stage had been set by her artistically and effectively. Nothing
changed every equation was where it was earlier. We used to come home straight
from office; if otherwise everybody used to be informed and this practice
continued. On our way down we used fetched vegetables, groceries or other
things as required and on reaching home everybody ensured that she had
undisturbed time to be in the kitchen.
We, particularly
Joshi, used to play with children and kept them busy. One day it so happened
that when Joshi was playing with the children, throwing and catching in the
air, Krita the baby girl slipped from his hands in the outside lawn and fell on
the hard rocky ground and it hit her hard: Joshi turned pale: totally confused:
he immediately picked up the baby, pressed her against his chest, and went away
running like a totally upset man, perhaps to nearby grocery shop to buy some
candy for the baby in the bid to calm the baby: returned home after ten-fifteen
minutes baby was laughing and so Joshi Sahib too. Nobody asked what happened it
was only the next day at morning tea time that details were shared with all,
Mrs. Trilok said there is nothing wrong it could happen with anybody. Joshi had
a sigh of relief and satisfaction that it was taken as genuine incident. The
sweet home was having its journey smooth and sober.
The ultimate luxury is being able to relax and enjoy
your home.
Jeff Lincoln
Everybody knew that
that three of us except Trilok were young enough between 22-25 years and were trying
for greener pastures somewhere else. After about 3-4 months Chauhan was
successful he got a post in the LIC and was given posting in Solan: left the
sweet home at Phagli to start a new one at Solan and even after his retirement
he is still there, now perhaps looking after the affairs of a local temple. I
had tried my luck at Assistants’ Grade could not get to the merit list in 1967
as only 33 persons were taken in merit that year. So I was preparing for the
second inning, in February 1968.This time Lord was gracious enough to secure
for me a place in the merit list in Sept 1968 when result came; got the offer
of appointment only in November 1968 and left that sweet home, but carried with
myself memories which all of us had made together, to join the Ministry of
Communication, Directorate General of Posts and Telegraphs Delhi. Joshi also
moved for Chandigarh in April 1969 as the office of Accountant General, Punjab
Shimla at Groton Castle, had been trifurcated in three units Punjab, Haryana
and Himachal on reorganization of Punjab and Himachal, Haryana was born as a
result thereof. Himachal Unit remained at Shimla and other two shifted to
Chandigarh being the joint capital of Punjab and Haryana. Joshi had opted for
Punjab Unit thus Joshi also left the cottage and with lots of sweet memories.
At the end of the day all that matters is love and memories
so make sure you give it and make sure you make them.
- Trent Shelton
Trilok the Style-man
and his family were now the only occupants of that Cottage Home: so he shifted
to a smaller accommodation: remained at Shimla even after his retirement: in
the meantime had married his daughter Krita who finally settled in Mauritius
and took her brother Rakesh also with her to settle him there. The Sweet Home again
became a house, brick by brick, full of dust and webs, which we had once cleaned
as our heaven perhaps waiting for the pious soul to come and make it once again
a home cozy and lovely.
When I happened to
be in Shimla, sometimes in 2015, I came to know from a friend that dear Trilok had
left for his heavenly abode in winter of 2014 in the same colony of Phagli
Shimla and was cremated in cremation ground below in the ravine. Matter of fact
is when we were together in the Cottage: Trilok many a times on holidays used
to be missing for hour or so without information and subsequently it became known
that he used to sit near the rivulet below enjoying the calm, noise of the
water, greenery, chirping of birds and sounds of insects: perhaps he is still
there to enjoy what he could not when he was alive. This particular place, I came to know later in
life was frequented in a similar way by one of the greatest singer of India and
he used to match his voice with the sound created by rain and trickling down of
drops from the leaves of the trees.
I went to Phagli to
meet Mrs. Trilok-Janak, but came to know from the landlord of last nest of the
family that she had perhaps left India for Mauritius with her daughter and son who
came after demise of our friend Trilok to perform last rites: no way out: I
stood there for few moments, saw towards deep down the ravine and prayed to
Almighty to grant my friend a place in Baikunth: Rest In Peace my friend.
Home is the nicest word there is.
Laura Ingalls
Wilder
Home is the most popular, and will be the most enduring
of all earthly establishments.
Channing
Pollock
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