There it was!!! All five of us- my younger brother Krishna,
sister Neelam, Neelam’s two daughters and I- stood gaping at it with
wide eyes, open mouth and word refusing to tumble from our mouths.
We were visiting Meerut after 34 years for a marriage and had eagerly
come looking for this house of our childhood. As little children we had
spent some very memorable and happy moments in that house. It was the
first bungalow allotted to our father after he received his commission
in Indian army. It was a huge majestic bungalow of the colonial era with
four acres of land secured with a boundary wall and two huge iron
gates. The horse shoe shaped house had big verandah running around it
with beds of flowers of all colors running all round the verandah.
Inside was a horse shoe shaped drawing room with big windows and large
doors opening in the verandah and the drawing room had a fireplace too. I
am yet to see a modern house with a fireplace and a chimney opening on
the roof. Beside the drawing room there was a huge dining hall with
large doors opening in bedrooms on two sides and a large kitchen and
bath rooms on the third side.
Everything about that house was
big. It had a large front garden and in the backyard stood a large
kitchen garden. Roses of all colours, raatranis, mogras and trees like
amaltas adorned the beds that bordered a large green lawn in the front
garden. I can never forget the cool moonlit nights, we enjoyed in that
garden. In the kitchen garden stood two pucca tandoors and a quaint
little cottage which must have been an outdoor kitchen. The previous
colonial residents must have thrown big barbecue parties in the
backyard. In this kitchen garden our father gave us our first lessons in
gardening, we were each made to sow chilly, tomato or vegetable plants
and also look after them and make them grow. We as kids were proud
owners of tomato or brinjal plants!
In the kitchen garden
also stood a mighty mango tree, two tamarind tree, one bearing red
tamarinds other bearing green ones, one shehtut (mulberry) tree bearing
finger sized purple and sweet shehtuts ,numerous jamun, bel and kabit
trees. I am yet to see a lal imli tree or a purple shahtut bearing tree.
The mango tree was a shade for our cow and also support for our swing
and climbing place for us in summer. On the border of the boundary wall
stood some servant quarters and horse stables.
As a kid I often visualized myself as a dainty little maiden flitting around the house in flowing white gowns.
After our father’s transfer we moved with him to different places,
lived in different army accommodations of different sizes but could
never forget that house. It remained the house of our childhood, the
house of our dreams.
And now that very mighty and beautiful house
lay their dilapidated in ruins. The front garden was gone, the kitchen
garden lay barren. Instead there stood multi storied buildings in the
open ground. While all the adjoining colonial bungalows still stood
mighty around the old house, some junk had decided to pull down the
house and build multi storied houses instead. They pulled down the roof
and the verandah but all their strength could not pull down the mighty
wall so the house was left there to rot. Instead they built multi
storied houses in the open ground around the house. The green trees,
roses, raatrani were all gone. The servant quarter still stood on the
borders of the boundary wall.
My brother sister and I, stood
still in front of the ruins, too shocked to say anything. At last my
sister broke the silence, With tears in her eyes she could only say –
“Oh, why did we come here to see the house, at least in our memories it
was alive till now – now it’s dead, gone forever “.
By – Janki Yadav