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?