The Fire that created …
It must have been early morning, someone started knocking on our door. My sisters were getting ready for their school & my father was busy serving me Parle-G in Chai (I used to eat Parle-G zillion times in a day, Manu Tai one of my sisters even convinced me that the photo of the kid on Parle-G was me ). Aai was cooking food & things were crazy as usual. Imagine 9 people (5 sisters + me + Papa + Aai + Grandpa) getting ready in a very small space at a time, it was crazy … suddenly someone knocks at the door & Kavi Tai opens it. My father’s working colleague who had a shop near to his shop, had come running to inform us that our shop was burnt down last night due to short circuit.
I can recall the fear, shock in my father’s eyes. I wasn’t able to process it, I think it was beyond me. He just finished serving me the last Parle-G’s that were left & also dropped me on his cycle to my school. That day strangely my Aai also accompanied him on the cycle. So, my grandpa went with my sisters to drop them & my Aai-Papa came with me. It was extremely rare for Aai to drop me as she use to drop my sister’s at their school which was at the other end. Anyways, I could sense something different on that ride. My father had a habit of talking with me on the cycle ride about school homework, in repetition telling me to “eat my tiffin”, “Speak up, don’t be quiet” etc . That day he was quiet. This silence ensued for a couple of days.
He came to pick me up and was noticeably distracted or different. His smile was not the same. Something had happened, something not good. After dropping me home, my father used to return back to his work at the tailor shop … That day he didn’t. He was at home, quiet & distraught.
House Dream Gone Wrong ..
My father had invested in renovating our place in a 1+1 with a small balcony … The only portion to be built was up. It was summer so ideally the work should have to be wrapped up before the rains. It was always my father’s dream to build a house that is good enough & big enough for his family. My grandpa had lost our Wada, it was huge (My sisters, Mother do tell me about it) … My father didn’t inherit anything & then he wanted to build something for his dad to relive that memory … So finally we were on the verge of getting a cement concrete 1+1 home in the slum & it was supposed to look dashing but this news came around & the work stopped completely. This was a difficult time to have patience for him, but I never saw that in interactions with us.
The next few weeks were weird, different & not usual for us as a family. My father use to leave home at 7am with me & then head to his shop on the cycle & then return to pick me up & head back to his shop again & return around 10pm or so. This time he was around a lot more, we spent times reading, doing my homework … I was very young but I could sense that something was not right. We even watched “The Mask” during that time at Alka Theatre with both of us laughing at Jim Carrey and not understanding a shit about what he was saying … He wanted me to get exposure to English so that I could speak it. Ice-creams on the way, at times Wada Pav, Dosa … I was getting use to it. He started doing odd jobs during that time, he delivered clothes for a local laundry shop, he also worked as a paper boy in the morning … He was just trying to get back on his feet. He never showed that to me or my sisters. For us, it was good that Papa was around a lot more but it was difficult for the family to survive. My mother started doing Raffu & picked up sewing jobs(Fall Pico) within the slum.
Now that I know what happened which I wasn’t aware of at that time. My father had to put in Rs. 32000/- to rebuild the entire shop + Rs. 7000/- for repaying customers who lost their clothes in this accident. It was a huge debt to be paid. He had to give up his savings & earn more to build the shop again.
Sambar bhaat Times
During this period of uncertainty, my mother & father roamed a lot together on his cycle. They use to leave the house in hurry & give Rs. 5 to my elder sister. She use to take me to Apsara Hotel, we use to carry a small utensil with us. In Rs. 5, we use to get a wholesome quantity of Sambhar from that hotel.
Gradually my Mom & Dad spent very less time at home, I assume they were trying to fix this situation & earn to make ends meet. I hardly saw them throughout the day except very late evenings. My sisters played my mom & dad. We use to play together, I remember many fights we had during that time. My mom & dad were in search for a loan that will take care of the reimbursements they had to make to their customers & rebuilt the shop. My father did odd jobs during this period, he used to take me to some of them. That included reselling utensils, laundry, selling clothes on the road, he also did an adhoc arrangement of doing his work near the road using his sewing machine. He didn’t give up, he did it, he worked very hard to make ends meet. Money was important & he had to take care of 8 of his family members. My mom also did odd jobs at that time, she came from a family of “Patils”(Village leaders) & wasn’t ashamed to take up anything. A woman I never saw out of the kitchen was suddenly using the sewing machine confidently, doing raffu.
I feel life is magical, we had great neighbours. There was Tarabai, Lakhes & Shaikhs living near our house. We use to eat wherever I can in my neighbourhood. Many things could have gone wrong for my father & his family at that time but I think something was looking over him. He was blessed, he made it with his family.
My mom was very protective of my sisters due to the fights around us. The environment was full of chaos & I was falling in love with it.
We lost grandpa though in this journey …….. …… …… I don’t know what to write now … I loved him, he use to take me on his shoulders. He was a star in real sense, there was hardly any gully where people didn’t wave him & shouted his name … He knew so many people & the respect he demanded even when he was broke was amazing … He used to say “You have to earn respect & love … Money can’t buy it” … “Money is so weak that it can’t buy love” … He cared a lot for people around him. A thought of him makes me emotional. If there is anything wise in me, my sisters or my father it is only because of him. He had a calm way of looking at things. He had lost a lot of things in his life.
One late night, I heard someone crying outside of our house. The door was locked from outside & I didn’t see my dad in bed. My dad was crying. My mom went outside and she started crying too & they both came. Usually, I didn’t sleep without my father near me. He washed his face & slept with me. He was going through a lot. My mom & grandpa were the only two people who use to talk with him about this. We all were very young.
I started doing my homework around that time on my own, even eating on my own. There is something that changes in you when your parents cry. I don’t know what it is, I was a kid but something within me said that I need to be responsible. I saw my father go through this, but it never came upon us. For many days, we were just living on rice & sambar, & wada pava was a celebration. Wada Pav is more than food for me, it has made me & my family laugh. Everything about it, the smell when it gets fried everything … I remember when my father had enough money we had Vada Pav’s.
Me & my father use to sleep on the incomplete upper deck of our house & stare at the sky. My father use to tell me stories, about stars, about his mother … He missed her, missed her a lot … He wanted to pass it on what my granny thought of me, him and the family. I was very young when she passed. I remember my father’s eyes, a broken dream of the house, and the worries he had … I always slept well in his lap. When I use to wake up, he was gone …
He was back to chasing his dreams, getting back on foot. He was blessed. He got everything sorted within a span of some months or so. He also took us to a nice hotel as a family, we ordered Masala Dosa & relished it. There was sambhar too as a supplement, I had a lot of sambhar that day. My sisters, Aai, Grandpa were so happy … My father’s eyes were charming that day. He was happy!
The work on the house had to start after rainy season … It was very inconvenient for us as the water would come down & then clean it again & again … When it wasn’t rainy, we both slept on the upper deck & looked at the stars. He use to say “Don’t take your tomorrow for granted. Don’t take your freedom & what you have for granted … Keep working hard”.
I still recall his lines. He made it. He built the house, gave us education & still leaves the house in the morning for his shop. Last week, he was telling me to visit our roots again. Travel to Kolhapur, Thanjavur & Gwalior down the line where our forefathers lived prospered. I want to chase the dream of my father & grandpa of building a beautiful house with a Angaan where the entire family can stay & prosper for generations!
The fire that burnt down the shop still remains in my father, me & I shall pass it on. I want to build a house that was a dream for my grandpa & Papa!