In Pursuit of A Dream

When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it’s never good news - especially when you look out the peep hole and find a big curious eye staring back at you. Enough to divest you of whatever traces of sleep was left in your system. I knew only one person who stares back through peep holes – my aunt. I opened the door with growing trepidation, and was assaulted by a chorus of sing-song voices saying “Surprise!” – I found myself blinking at an assortment of relatives of all sizes ranging in age from 5 to 80. Just seven of them.

My aunt, her husband, their son and daughter-in-law and their three kids – I couldn’t help but notice the enormous amount of luggage either – I counted 15 bags. Typical – each person carries at least two, and the strongest gets to carry three – the logic being that one has to carry at least one more bag than they can. Guess it depends not on what you need, but on what you think you need.

My relatives straightaway proceeded to consider my 1-bedroom flat their own. As they treated themselves to cold drinks and chocolates from the refrigerator, I gathered that they were here to see the ‘sights of the city.’ My aunt, who had discovered ice cream in the refrigerator and was treating herself to generous dollops of it, said between mouthfuls, “We were just talking about you the other day. How we have not seen you for 10 years and all that… So, we just decided to pack up and come along to see you. And in the process, we can see Bangalore too. We didn’t want to disturb you, you know! So, we just came from the station ourselves. Horrid, these autowallahs are! They charged 200 rupees for just 3 kilometers, saying it was “odd time!”

“But,” she added, “It’s nice to have relatives in strategic places you know!” Sure, I know!

I took a deep breath as my gaze wandered around the pitifully tiny flat that had been my pride until then. I couldn’t help but wonder at the storm that seemed to be rocking it right at the foundations. I wondered how kids can have the energy to play Dracula at 3 am in the morning. They were all over the place – hiding and laughing and screaming their lungs out when discovered by their fellow Draculas. Even as I tried to understand the mystery of their high energy levels, a piercing shriek designed to leave me permanently deaf popped my heart out of its rhythm and set my ears ringing for 2 scary minutes. Some lung power!

I managed to drag out an old mattress and quickly made make-shift beds for the kids and their parents. The “master bed” of course went to my uncle and aunt. And that was about all the furniture I had. I found a bed sheet and spread it out in the 3 x 5 ft dining “space.” No pillows left. I pulled out some clothes from the wardrobe and tried to make myself comfortable enough to get some sleep. But I was not destined to sleep. Draculas and one-eyed monsters kept invading my dreams.

I woke up sore and tired at 5 a.m., only to find my aunt chanting away to glory. I first cursed at having my restless sleep destroyed so completely by her mumbo jumbo. And then I found myself listening more closely. I hadn’t heard those verses since I was a kid. Fascinated in spite of myself, I listened for a while…

Office! I have to get to office. No time to listen to all that chanting stuff – even though it reminded me of cold mornings of long ago when I used to sit at the kitchen door steps in the patch of sun light that filtered through the dense trees growing in our back yard, drinking Bournvita my mother used to prepare for me just the way I liked it.

I quickly went into the kitchen – only to find that tea was already prepared. Not quite the way I like it these days, but still reminiscent of a time when I wasn’t so picky about adding generous amounts of milk and sugar. I decided that if I had to get to office on time, I needed to capture the bathroom ASAP. But of course, someone else was already ensconced in there, a second ahead of me. My uncle has this habit of singing out aloud his devotion for the creator as he performs his daily ablutions and bath. Unfortunately, uncle also does not come out of a bathroom before the proverbial hour is up – He takes his time. I knew I would get in trouble again in office for coming late. This time the fault wouldn’t be mine. As if that matters.

My cousin and his wife, thankfully, were still asleep with their kids. I finally got to capture the bathroom, but couldn’t manage a reasonable length of stay inside. The mini-Draculas were up and in great form. One of them wanted immediate occupancy of the bathroom. I had to relent.

When I next entered the kitchen, I found that the breakfast was already prepared and a lunch box had mysteriously appeared – all packed and ready. My aunt wrinkled her nose as she placed the lunch box in front of me, “Don’t eat things from hotels outside. Verrrrrry dirty! You never know what diseases they breed out there. I’ve cooked some rice and dal. Have that.” I stared at the steel box and wondered how I would fit it in the laptop bag. Home made rice and dal – not bad I guess.

And as I was stepping out of the house, she said, “Oh! By the way, don’t forget to get some fruit. Your uncle is fond of apples. You know – the Washington ones. Get two kgs of those. And get some more ice cream for the kids. Your fridge is practically empty. And there seems to be some problem with the geyser. Send some electrician to get it fixed. And here is the list of groceries you need to get today evening. I am going to prepare your favorite aloo paranthas today for dinner.” Aloo paranthas – my favorite? Still, it was something to look forward to at dinner.

I realized I didn’t have my cell phone with me. So, I went back in. It was not in its usual place on the TV stand. I hunted around a bit. My aunt told me that one of the mini-Draculas had been playing with it. I found it in the tiny hands of the youngest Dracula. Predictably, the screen saver, ringtone and everything else that could be changed had been changed.

I managed to reach office on time. I marveled at the mysterious ways of the universe!

This was pretty much my routine for the next week. My relatives knew more of Bangalore than I did by the end of the week. I was surprised there was so much to this city that I had been working in for the past five years. Neighbors started dropping by to visit. I had never known that the family living next door had a kid who was mentally retarded.

But, I was tired of the constant screaming of the little Draculas. I wanted to eat something I had cooked myself in my own style. I wanted to watch TV without having three pairs of eager hands grabbing at the remote. I wanted to have nothing to do with neighbors who kept popping in and out asking for sugar or a tomato or a potato and sometimes my laptop. I didn’t want to have to hunt for my own phone every time I needed to make a call. I wanted to enjoy peace in my own house. I struggled to come to grips with the change that had suddenly taken over my life.

But just as quickly as they had come, they were gone. I heaved a sigh of relief as the train bore them away on a fine Sunday afternoon. I was eager to get back home and sleep on my own bed.

But when I opened the door, the quiet was a bit scary. The house looked like a cyclone had just passed through it, so I started cleaning it up. I restocked my refrigerator. I flipped through channels on TV for a few hours. I tried to sleep, but sleep eluded me. I picked up the phone and called my mother. I spoke with her for fifteen minutes and told her all about “aunt’s trip to Bangalore.” Then I went up to the terrace and watched the sunset. I wondered why I was not relaxed – now that the storm was past.

“Maybe I should finish some work instead of wasting my time,” I thought. I switched on my laptop and stared at the screen for an hour before realizing that I wasn’t getting any work done. The house was too quiet.

“No matter,” I told myself, “Time flies… Tomorrow will be another day. I will probably thank my stars that the house is quiet after I come from office tomorrow.” This time, I couldn’t stop that nagging question from popping back into my head – again. Is this the dream-life that I have struggled so hard to achieve?

What have I given up to achieve this?

A. Geeta