My Summer Holiday Home

Summer holidays meant the quintessential trip to Kolkata and Cuttack. While Kolkata had its own charm, I loved going to Cuttack more than Kolkata.

Here is the place, I spent part of my summers as a kid. Its Ma's house. I refuse to call it Mamughara or Mamabari. I think of this place as the place where Ma was born. This is the place where I learnt to have tamarind golis, spend long hot summer afternoons in some random relative's house pestering the life out of them. Oh and how can I forget those doll weddings, where Puchkas were served to the little guests. This is the place I so loved coming back, every year, to my beloved grandparents. And this is the place I haven't managed to visit in years together.



Aja's (grandpa) room. The place I had my morning tea watching oriya news on his B/w Konark TV. The cups and medals you see in that cupboard are all won by him as part of the Orissa Hockey team. My champ! And all the things u see stuffed here have been here for decades...Ma says Aja doesn't let anyone touch anything :). back then he used to have the best pen collection, hidden in that cupboard. I remember the smell of that room.....



I still haven't seen this room. A new addition to the house. But the lady u see here is Basi Mye(aunt/Mami), the biggest devotee of all Gods known to her :). be sure to get a glass of Rasna the minute you land in her room.



These stairs lead to the beautiful terrace, where we spent the evenings and sometimes nights in summer. Aie (Grandma) would get mattresses and mosquito nets, and we'd sleep right there under the moonlit night sky with stars twinkling above us.



The courtyard. This was the place for all the women to congregate in the evening over cha in stainless steel cups and 'Gulcose' biscuits. I heard the best stories there- of murder, of 'bad' mothers in law, of poverty, of the rich, of Gods and random relatives. I was allowed to hang around there, simply because I pretended not to read my Enid Blyton, and not listen to them. :D



I slept in this room with Ma and Aie in the afternoons. It was the best room back then. The window opened right into the gully - I wasn't allowed to peep- it was apparently bad manners to stand by the window. However i caught Aie doing that several times whenever there was a fight. :)




MY mamabari, deckedup like a bride on Diwali. Many many years back, she looked sparlking white, and had two giant lions on either side of the entrance. There was no iron gate. Each time I disembarked frm the cycle rickshaw, coming from the railway station, the entrance used to be filled with mamus and mausis all led by my grandmum waiting for us to reach. I have the same strange childlike excitement in my heart right now...


Chiku's parent's room. Back then when I was in class 2 or 3, when the joint family were all staying under one roof, this room was occupied by Banku Aie and her family. This was a room that was occupied by 6 people...Nilu , Banku Aie, Mami Mousi, kami Mousi,Bibu mamu, Bubu mamu. I spent many afternoons here listening to Aie telling oriya fairytales. As I grew up, I started calling her Mrs Banks.



A footballers room. No Ronaldo or Beckham posters. But a truly passionate sportsman: Bulu Mamu.



The huge wooden carved box you see, had held my fantasy for many years. They told me the box was full of Gold jewellery and diamons kept aside for my wedding :).



The entrance. Men hung around here on their cycles, scooters. No woman stood by the entrance chatting. Except ofcourse Aie, who would stop every passerby to ask after his/her wellbeing.




The modern room with an AC. Now occupied by the next gen cousins of mine. It used to be called the 'Budha Ghara' (old man's room). And it was used for random things. Entertaining guests, gossip, studies. A story went that at night a ghost came inside the room to pull your leg. For many years we slept there in the nights...i used to be terrified.



The Kitchen. Oh its changed sooo much. It used to have a thatched roof, and coal chullhas...I remember Aie used to blow air with a plastic fan to make the embers burn....


Thanks Pintu, for these (the next gen Cousin)!

Comments

Gargi said…
u know what...can empathise so strongly with ur post....our ancestarl home at khardah...looks very similar....love these old houses...where every nook and corner in the room...has a story to tell!! took me back so many years :)
phish phish said…
So true! I would get transformed into a princess in a fortress with hidden staircases, rooms, wooden chests and enact scenes out of fairytales when visiting my ancestral home during vacations. I would spend unending hours just exploring...

Take me along the next time you go. I have crossed Orissa via road and I think it is one of the most beautiful states I have seen.
Joe Pinto said…
My dear Ketchup Girl,

Thanks for sharing your childhood in the form of a place where you stayed and the persons you knew.

You have solved a problem for me: how to write about the places and persons of "my" childhood.

Warm regards,
- Joe.
thanks all!

@sir: thanks for stopping by :), and am glad I was of some help!! Do keep coming back!

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