Life – A mixed bag…

We moved into a new home at Cuttack! The home is actually a residential complex, not that kind you would see in today’s world though – towers of concrete and cement with pigeon holes for homes! There is a main building which is two-storied, with us occupying the ground floor and the first floor by an Anglo-Indian family. This is the front of the “complex”!

The front of the house had a huge semi-circular verandah with an entrance to our home and a staircase in the corner leading to the first floor. Upon entering the house through the front door, we get into the living area, where the sofa set was placed, along with a wrought iron cot. To the left of the hall there is door that would lead to a long corridor. Along the corridor, right behind the hall was a row of three interconnected rooms, the first one for miscellaneous purposes, with an easy chair and my study table. The next one was our (children’s bedroom), with two cots and the last one my parents bedroom. Each room had two doors – one leading to the corridor and another one to the room next to it. At the end of the long corridor, away from the hall and three rooms, were the kitchen and the store room. Next to them was an alcove, for utility purposes, and next to the alcove were the bathroom and the toilet. Between the main portion and the utility area was a narrow passage that led to a small door that opened into the inside of the rest of the complex.

There was a passage, next to the building leading into the interior of the complex, which was a narrow cement road, where two people can walk at the same time. The passage was next to our bedrooms windows and the neighbors walking by, would find me hanging out of any one of them. They would invariably stop to have a chat with me, for I knew everyone who lived there. Immediately, after the main building ended, there was another small building, which was a two-room tenement that had a terrace with a parapet wall that would come up to the ankle. This terrace was out of boundaries to us, given that the parapet wall was dangerously low! Of course, that never prevented me from sneaking up the stairs and play there on hot summer afternoons, while Mommy was having her siesta.

The passage turned left at this small house and continued further until it ended at a small pond. Around the ponds were several houses – some with tiled roofs and some with thatched roofs. You can see various economic strata of India inhabiting those houses and the kind of house you live in represented your per capita income. Needless to say, I was strictly prohibited from going anywhere near the pond and as usual, I did what I was not supposed to do, albeit, without my parents knowledge. The pond and the surroundings were something out of a beautiful landscape painting. The pond was green with water plants, in the centre, while closer to bank, it was more bluer in color. There were white and red lotus flowers at the deeper end of the pond. If we did not jeer the people trying to catch fish in the pond, they would be nice enough to pluck some of the flowers and present them to us. The pond bank had luscious green grass growing with coconut trees breaking the monotony of a flat land.


Goes without saying, within a short time, I explored the entire “complex” - every nook and corner – introduced myself to all the neighborhood adults and made friends.

My memories of this place are no longer hazier and I remember everything that happened in this house – Boy, did they happen? Life here, as I remember, was like a Bollywood flick! A dash of romance, a scoop of action, an ounce of horror, a pound of thrill and a ton of mischief!