Time Machine

Posted on: January 10, 2017 Posted by: Manju Gupta Comments: 25

“Hmm, so not even the children?” my maid asked, not caring to hide her disdain. “No, just us siblings, our parents will accompany us though.” I replied without a shred of guilt. I had been through this drill so many times, had been judged by so many people that I didn’t care anymore. After all it was just a holiday, a fifteen day break. It was a family vacation that we had been planning for a long time and now that we were about to embark on this journey, we were letting the news out, slowly, and on a need to know basis. The problem was that the family was not a family anymore, not by legal definition anyway, and we were quickly realising, the trip didn’t have social sanction.

It was a very generous Rakhi gift from my brother. A fifteen day break from the present to dwell in the past. A vacation with the family I was born into. After four and a half decades we wanted to abandon ( temporarily!!) our spouses and offspring and travel back in time, to revisit our childhood. We felt that not having ‘the others’ around was necessary for the sanctity of the experience.  Surprisingly the children, themselves  young adults, took the news pretty well. In fact they encouraged us to make the most of this ‘ once in a lifetime opportunity’ and hoped to replicate it themselves in future. Our spouses were understandably less enthusiastic but agreed, albeit grudgingly. It was the rest of ‘our world’ who couldn’t see the need or relevance of such a trip. 

We took the holiday nevertheless, the frowns notwithstanding. Spent a week bonding in London before retracing our steps all the way to Canada. As I walked from one memory to the next, the line ‘there had been no years….’   from E.B White’s nostalgic gem kept playing in my mind. Just as he has described the memories came rushing back, ones that I didn’t know existed. The scent  of the wooden floor, the pattern of the wall tiles, the feel of the door knob, the green counter top in the kitchen all triggered events of an era gone by.

Wandering through the past, I wondered about the future. What would my own children remember most about their home forty years hence. With my son ready to take wing and daughter having a nest of her own I wish I had built more memories. I wish I had taken out the yellow picnic table more often and not complained about the pools of water they brought in after getting drenched in the rain. I wish I had allowed messier marks on the growth chart, kept a pet earlier and adopted another one when it got lost. I wish I had  snuggled with them instead of pulling them out of bed on  Sunday mornings and had let the ‘inconsequential’ conversations flow beyond bed time. I wish I had made ice lollies while they still cared and hadn’t forced aloo methi down their throats. 

As they prepare to take flight I hope they remember the fragrance of flowers at the front door, the smoke rising from the barbecue and the warm sun on our backs on wintery afternoons. Sadly, we never spent much time on the terrace swing  or  got around to watch a storm from the gazebo in the garden. But I hope  they’ll cherish memories of our bed, where hoisted on pillows we played cards amid accusations and counter accusations of cheating. It is the place in the house where we have shared the most laughter per square inch.  

I wish they forget the fights and bickering, the sulks and the silences and remember only the good times. As I despair at the time lost, time which could have been put to better use, my only consolation is that  their most lasting memories will  be ones I can neither predict nor control. They will surface at the most unexpected moment. I can just hope that they will be happy ones.

(published in the Hindu on 10/1/2017)

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  2. I am happy that you wrote this n I read this not just once but thrice. Lessons given are so direct ,honest n significant.. Love you for this

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  4. Dear Ma’am,

    Your beautiful article in today’s HINDU has forced me to write this mail. Though it has been a few times when an article stirred me to express my appreciation to the writer, I couldn’t actually bring myself to doing it considering it perhaps an intrusion on his/her time. But your article touched my own longings/thoughts so much that I thought ‘well, let me do it this one time’.

    Yes, I too have longed to revisit those places where my childhood was spent and I have already done so in case of 2 out of the 4 places where my childhood was spent. These two places I visited recently after a gap of 43/46 years. The remaining two places whose remembrance I still have when I was even younger would also be surely visited by me sooner rather than later.

    Oh, how the memories of those formative years haunt you! I still remember each and every stone laid out on our pathways, every plant/tree, the dew on grass leaves that used to shine at day break sometimes forming a tiny rainbow (in keeping with the VIBGYOR we were to study later in Physics), the river floating by making an incessant noise, the mountains which reverberated with whatever was spoken/sung by distant working men/women (because of the echo effect), the humdrum of school, the fun at whatever games/sports we played et al.

    The above are the memories that have stayed with me all these decades. But when I visited these places again after such a long interval, I was not a little disappointed. Our house that seemed to our small eyes big enough not only for us four brothers and parents but also had room to spare for guests now looked so tiny forcing me to wonder how we managed to live in it. The roads, the neighbourhood, the school… all had changed and not necessarily for the better, instead of a handful of small shops the town now has a bustling market place, our house at the second location though still standing, had huge cracks on the walls because of a devastating earthquake in early 90s while the houses of my friends unfortunately now lay in ruins…. It seems as if the romanticism and nostalgia of the past must necessarily give way to the realities of the present. Why does it have to be this way almost always?

    Fortunately, your post doesn’t reflect this confrontation with reality. Instead you wonder what memories your kids might like to retain with them as they grow older, whether they would really like to revisit the places of their childhood etc. Perhaps you found things almost exactly how they were when you lived there. I keep exhorting my wife to visit places of her childhood but either she doesn’t feel strongly enough on the matter or is unable to extricate herself out of her routine. I would actively encourage my kids should they wish to visit places where their childhood was spent. It would be so lovely to see the sparks in the eyes of my wife and kids and extra spring in their footsteps when they near an object fixed in their memories! I too would have liked to visit these places with my parents but alas, they are no more now. Going with my brothers and some childhood friend is now the only option left.

    Anyway, your post made it almost compulsory for me to share my thoughts with you and appreciate how much I liked it even if it means nothing to you and to the world. I would perfectly understand if you chose to ignore it in keeping with Ms Samantha Sharma’s post just above that of yours in today’s HINDU. But then there is another article just below that of yours again in today’s HINDU written by Ms Senjuti Mallick which might decide otherwise for you!

    Best regards,
    Devendra Rudola

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    1. Not an intrusion at all…infact I think anyone who writes…does it to be read…comments are the fuel that keeps us going….so thank you very much. You have beautifully described your childhood places…i could hear the river gushing by. Incidentally I wrote about the “shrinking” spaces of my childhood spaces and it was carried by the Hindu last year…..you can find it on my blog….Time Machine…
      It felt eerily familiar reading your description….I used the same phrases! peruse at leisure

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  5. Open page has always been my favourite. And today just now when I opened if after having lunch my eyes fell at central article and I started reading it and halfway I had this intuition that it’s by you and I checked the name… it’s Manju Gupta… loved it like rest of yours

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  6. Glad you had the trip and this beautiful write up we could read….truly ,agree with you , memoirs are far more cherished than material things. …and with such affectionate bonding ,it’s prize possession you carry with you as a being.cheers to that.keep sharing and encouraging us to collect such moments…

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  7. It was a great idea Manju. Nice to see Dr Gupta, indeed all of you, in photos. Was thinking of him, last week only.

    And you write very well, keep up!

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  10. Mesmerizing indeed !!

    Wonder what our children will remember about our times with them.

    But one thing is sure you all have been a wonderful part of our lives …. our past, present and future.

    If nothing else, then Kanu & Narayani are surely going to cherish the memories created with you all in our gastronomical sojourns.

    Looking forward to an awesome celebration of this half century.

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    1. Thanks sir. With children you never know. But I will always remember the good times we shared at Madhuban. Gastronomical sojourns is the perfect way to describe our association.

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  11. Hi Manju,

    I have thoroughly enjoyed your article in THE HINDU.Hope to see your article in coming days.

    Apart from this if you wish to write any book in near future, kindly inform me.

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  14. Manju di,
    Awesome write up … turn back time touches a chord 🙂
    And I’m relishing the pics of my ‘nanna- munna’ friend 🙂

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