Gomia Chronicle I (Friendship day special)

Prompted by a visit by one of our very close family friends, and that too on this friendship day, at my current Kolkata residence, I once again delved into my extremely rich reservoir of childhood memories. Gomia is that fairy tale world of everything-sweet-and-good, the name that itself transports me to a world completely different from the one that I live in now. Like Narayan’s Malgudi, Gomia had a childlike purity and innocence of a world yet to mature into the self centred materialistic world of our everyday existence. Whether it was our own childhood or Gomia’s lack of connection with the other world, I cannot tell now, but that was a township with a marked distinction of a place being one single entity, undivided by petty factionalist tendencies.

One of my favourite activities as a young girl was to go for day and night stays to one of our family friends’ houses or have them over at mine. In Gomia, it was a frequently done thing and a number of Saturdays were spent in friends’ houses. Of course it is something quite unthinkable for children of that age group in my current metropolitan dwelling but in those days, even our parents did not hesitate to give in to our demands of night stays at close friends’ houses. Perhaps the bond of friendship was stronger and trust was more condensed in that small place of about a thousand or so population. I remember playing carom with Piu di or at Ayan and Mala’s place or the upma-sambhar breakfast by Dutta aunty. The Mr. Potato Head coin box owned by Piku and Piu di still tugs at my imagination because I had a childhood fancy of its developing feet one day and simply running away like the Gingerbread Man.

And then there was my month long stay divided between these households due to my grandmother’s illness that prompted my mother to take up residence in Kolkata for that many days and my father to shuttle between these two places. My brother being too young to stay back had to be taken along. That was the period which probably taught me the values of friendship, trust and care. Every single day, the aunties (with whoever I was staying for that day) would help me get ready for school, prepare my breakfast and tiffin, inquire about my day at school on my return and take care of all my needs. Their children kept me company and I enjoyed my entire stay, hopping from one house to another at my whims and fancy.

It was the most significant learning period of my life. Probably its importance was not appreciated by me then but as I grew older and as I continue my life in this bustling metropolis, I miss those beautifully crafted relationships devoid of any blood ties or any selfish motives; ties that a group of people bore year after years in their own modest ways. It now teaches me to value friends and to hold that relationship as something most sacrosanct.

I still recall that time with fondness and also ponder; shall I ever be able to provide my son with that kind of bond of friendship and good faith in the community in which he is growing up?