Leaving behind joy and a slice of life

My father would be transferred to new places regularly because of his job. Consequently, my siblings and I studied in various schools in different towns.

My father would be transferred to new places regularly because of his job. Consequently, my siblings and I studied in various schools in different towns. My father would first go to the new place, join duty and start looking for an affordable dwelling place. After he fixed a rented house, he would come back to pack and move.

Relocation was always a pain for us children. We had to part with our friends and school teachers. Every new place appeared hostile to us. I used to stand at a window and look at an unfamiliar environment and whine to my mother that I had no friends to play with. Mother would console me that soon I would get to know some neighbour of my age and play with him. We also complained about inconvenient bathrooms or insufficient water supply on relocation.

During my boyhood, I did not realise how much hardship my mother went through by moving from one rented house to another till I grew up and had to relocate myself. In those days, professional movers and packers were non-existent. My mother used to painstakingly pack kitchenware and glassware in old clothings and bundle them in wooden or trunk boxes and tie the boxes with ropes. She also had to run the kitchen till the day of departure lest we complained of hunger.

At any new place, despite all her diligence, one or the other glassware would be found shattered due to mishandling by the headloaders. Once a mirror was found broken and my mother considered it as bad omen and prayed to god for everyone’s welfare. On yet another occasion, my father could not find his insurance policy and spent many a sleepless night searching for it in every wooden box.

I remember one location in western Tamil Nadu where we spent an year. Luckily, many of my school mates lived in the same village and consequently I developed many friendships. We had formed a cricket team of eleven players.  One day a cat fell into the well in our backyard. My mother was worried about the pathetic mewing of the cat.

Fortunately, a schoolmate in the village knew what to do. He brought a wicker basket and a rope and lowered the basket into the well under the cat. He then pulled up the basket. As the basket came up, water drained away. As soon as the basket reached the top, the cat darted away without waiting to say ‘thanks’ to my pal. All good things come to an end. My father was transferred from there after a year. I had to say goodbye to my friends with a heavy heart and move on.