Down The Memory Lane…

We all have that one special place where we live and re-live our lives. A place where, when with our people, we are at peace.
For me, its a beautiful house in a equally beautiful and small village of Konkan, Burambad. It is a place which, every year that I have been visiting, has remained exactly the same. Frozen in time and space.  This is the place about which I used to write essays when in school, draw about in drawing classes.
An ‘adda’ of all my siblings and cousins.  In spite of all the conspiracies that we staged against one another, all the cut throat fights that we had, all the times when we swore never to see each other’s face and promised to severe our ties with each other (I mean how long do your “you-ate-my-chocolate-now-you-are-not-my-sister-fight” hold up?), it is still a house I will always remember to bring quietude and peace.
The sibling fights now are sweet memories, we all laugh at. Our hideout places in the village, the pristine riverbank, the dry fields and the beautiful serene temples, have remained just as unchanged as our house. An yearly trip to Burambad still till date fails to reduce the excitement I feel every time I cross that small stone bridge into the village.
The only thing that has changed is our roles. From being the trouble makers we have been “promoted” to be the disciplinarians of the next generation. We run behind our nephews and nieces like our uncles and aunts used to run behind us. But again this phenomenon is also something the house has witnessed many times. For there are several batches of generations which have “graduated” to a variety of roles over the many years, and the house had witnessed them all.
It is amazing to see that in spite of witnessing such changes the place has remained exactly the same, holding so many memories for each one of us, creating it’s own special place in our hearts. It is for me, a home. A home where I can reconnect with myself and my dear family! And I know it is of same value to all my cousins as I can literally imagine a smile stretching  on their lips as they read this blog.
We all have played, fought, relaxed and most importantly grown up in this house. I await again, as always, for my yearly trip “down the memory lane”…
Image Courtesy: Varad Sahasrabuddhe (My Cousin and Partner in Crime)

© 2018 Ashwini Nawathe, Kaleidoscope of My Life
All Rights Reserved

20 thoughts on “Down The Memory Lane…

      1. Unfortunately, the places where my ancestors stayed as turned to full fledged city now. So i miss the country life that you are fortunate to visit annually. I do have memories of visiting my lovely grandma, the chawls of bombay, the matka kulfis at 12 in the night, the muddy marble street. Oh such lovely days those were……

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