Houses.

We have been moving around the city ever since I was a child till we ended up buying a house in South Cal in 2014.

The experiences have been myriad to say the least. As I stood reminiscing about how the houses and all that they have brought in with them have shaped me through the years, I couldn't help but smile.

Childhood began with a stint at Kalyani. A quaint little house where morning winds were always moist with the aroma of fresh flowers. Gardens. Bach in the background, hot milk and kindergarten. T.V. with buttons for channels, a dial on the phone. Talking about milk, it used to come in glass bottles at 7.
We had a library, which also had a record player and a stack of vinyls. Easy chairs. Eucalyptus trees by the gate and a neighbor with a vintage car and a vintage smile.

We moved in to the city a few years later. Cramped ourselves in a small apartment in South Cal. I had learnt by then that space was important. I missed the library, but we made that up with regular visits to my grand parents at Kalyani during the weekends.

Suddenly, we had to move again. This time, to North cal.

This new House was quite something. And the setting, the ambiance of the house as well as the neighbourhood was truly surreal. 

A british Quarter within a medical institute, which in itself was as old as the city it seemed. The campus had space, but was within the bustle of the North. The neighbourhood around it was, and still is, cramped and smelled like working class.

It baffles me today when I consider the number and the variety of people living there and making ends meet. 

The easy by lanes of the South are polar opposites to the busy streets of the North. The Houses here are conjoint twins and the families within are as different as they can get. Some houses have a small courtyard. The walls tell stories of sustenance. 

That was a contrast. Our house had high ceilings and a balcony. A rare find.

Morning would involve a pretty long walk or a tram ride to the bus stop for school. 

The winters were always more memorable. I remember buying my woollens from the Bhutia bazar.

Halfway through high school, we moved back south. 

It was an apartment. I realised space was elusive. 

It was near my old neighbourhood when we had moved out to the North. On my return I had noticed how my old acquaintances had moulded themselves into adults. I had noted that they had become the same people whom they had seen on the porches during their childhood when we fooled around the weekends.

It was a long sigh from my end.

Luckily our apartment had a neat terrace. I share some really personal memories with that place.

Then, finally, we found another house worthy of living in. 

But soon, I will have to move out. 

Belonging somewhere is equally rewarding and difficult.

I'd like to call it a night for the time being. It has been easy lately.
Today it was raining. Very unusual for December.