I am often asked questions like 'which is your favourite place in the world?', or 'which is that one place you'll give anything to go to?' I have never been able to answer these questions, until finally I realised...
My happiest memories are of the times when I spent my summers at my grandma’s place in Sangli. She had a small house in my Grandfather’s backyard (her brother), around 300-400 sq.ft., it was divided into three parts - a bedroom, in between the hall and the kitchen.
My happiest memories are of the times when I spent my summers at my grandma’s place in Sangli. She had a small house in my Grandfather’s backyard (her brother), around 300-400 sq.ft., it was divided into three parts - a bedroom, in between the hall and the kitchen.
Maa's was the prettiest house I've seen till date, she had a small kitchen garden in the backyard, and a big mango tree sheltering the front yard protectively. Her house was beautiful and cosy because it was filled with her love and care; and it always smelt of God, probably because she always had an incense stick burning. The house was so clean and tidy that you wouldn't even see one small crease on the bed or the newspaper even an inch out of its place. It was my home.
Maa always had stories to tell. She was a great writer, some of her work was even published, she wrote for the local newspapers, and magazines. I used to love sitting in the kitchen, and listening to her stories while nibbling on some home-made snacks. I enjoyed spending time with her, I have learnt so much form her.
She had a lot of interesting things like old pictures, jewellery, old radios and clocks that had stopped working, but were too valued to be thrown away, she loved collecting things. We were seldom given the liberty to go through her prized possessions, but the joy I felt when I was allowed to read her letters and see the pictures was hardly ever felt again.
It was those small moments when we used to walk down to the bakery to get fresh cookies for tea or grandma catching us when we used to sneak out in the afternoon to peep into the big well in the backyard that made holidays so much fun!
She was very fond of writing letters, and so every once in a while we would get letters form her asking how everyone was doing and what was going on with all of us. even today when i open those letters I have tears in my eyes, it makes me feel so special and so loved!
Isn’t life about treasuring these small moments, so that when we put them all together it becomes great?
We all want the same things in life. We all want to be loved and we all want to be cared for. And it’s those small moments that make us Happy, that make us feel Alive. So my favourite place in the world would be a place where I’ll feel loved like that. It would be a place like my grandmother’s, where I’ll be able to share those small moments with the peopleI love and care for.
