Last Diwali when I was home, I was at the dinner table and looking at a shelf that was covered with a lacy curtain. Thick white net with patterns like that of a lace. It wasn’t white anymore. A dull yellowish color and not as transparent as I thought it should have been. I couldn’t see what was behind it. As I ate my favorite fish curry and rice, I wondered what could be on that shelf. I made a mental note to check it out later.
I was going to spend a few days with my parents and I had time on hand.
Growing up, this used to be an open shelf. There were telephone books and other notebooks on it. The top row had medicines and the bottom, some hand-made cards that either Mum’s students gave to her or my brother and I had made for our parents. Pink or blue chart papers cut and turned into a card with handwritten wishes on it. Same words whether it was their birthday or anniversary. Thoughtfully decorated with a few hearts and balloons that I am sure couldn’t have been my brother’s work. Cards that were reminders of our growing up years.
During my stay, I roamed around the house when Mum and Papa were away for work. I opened my old cupboards and saw Mum’s sarees instead of my clothes. There were old ties and belts from our school days. The unlocked drawers had no secret stuff saved. In place of the big music system on the shelf were now more clothes and a new plastic cover.
Over my stay, I saw habits that I had not seen before. Mum worshiped more than before and Papa spent his free time at the computer. Surfing articles instead of the newspapers and magazines like before. They watched TV in late evenings but not together. Mum watched her favorite shows and Papa preferred news or sports. They argued more than before and made up quickly. This demeanor was new to me but I had been away too long to see the change.
In the years that I was studying away from home and then working, home was a place I visited. I stopped living there many years ago. It will soon be two decades since I have a life of my own. First with room mates and now with husband. And things have changed like they should have with time. While the city and its crowds don’t bother me at all, every year during Diwali I see my home change a bit. A bit more than the previous years yet noticeable to my eyes. Mum thinks they have better stuff, thanks to online shopping and Papa thinks there is variety without having to step outside.
Part of me tells me this is aging and part of me tells me a different story.
I now see my grandparents in my parents. My Nani reading books and Nana busy with a game of bridge. Baba busy discussing political issues and Dadi engaged with what kids and family would eat. Shelves of jars and jars filled with pickles and chutneys. Just like that shelf with the white lacy curtain near the dinner table. Not many who can eat due to high blood pressure and cholesterol but still stuff that the neighbors have shared or mum has made.
An empty nest that my parents have has turned into a home like that of my grandparents. Deep in my heart, I know I am also changing. Slowly becoming like my parents. I don’t want to believe this. I thought I was getting different experiences and living my life differently. But an apple doesn’t fall far from its tree.
When I head home this Diwali, I want to find that bit of change. Again.
Writing a non-fiction piece after a long time with Yeah Write #389.
This post was the top three pick this week on Yeah Write. I didn’t get any specific feedback on my writing but I loved that the post resonated with a lot of readers. Thank you, all!
happiness and food 
Lovely post. Made me nostalgic. Change is the only constant in life but strangely we don’t want our parents to change. Isn’t it?
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We all know that but we still don’t want it. Irony, isn’t it?
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Heartfelt words with a message. Thanks for sharing it.
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Glad you liked it!
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we all change with passage of time whether we like it or not. While some changes are age related others I guess are because of “DNA”. And some because of situations. One starts to find new things to keep oneself busy. I’m happy you took time and thought about all this. Nothing will come as a surprise.
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We keep ourselves busy but we are also not oblivious to what happening around. Sometimes things are a revelation.
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absolutely
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Sometimes change is beautiful and empowers, reminding us of the nostalgia we left behind. A heart warming post, parul.
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True that, Vishal. Thank you!
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Each trip back home, we do see changes. This post resonated with me on so many levels, Parul.
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Glad it did. Thanks Damyanti.
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Yes, their habits change over the time we are absent. It’s all a part of growing up I guess. I sometimes feel like I am growing more like my mother. Don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing 😅
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Ha ha! That you need to figure out 😉 but yes, all part of growing up.
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Ah, such a sensitive topic and you do full justice to it! It takes a keen eye to notice such things.
The apple surely doesn’t fall away from the tree. I guess the sooner we accept this, the better.
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True that. Thank you Soumya!
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Great reflections, Parul. I’m not sure you know that I inherited my parents home and as I go through stuff and try to sort it out, there are so many things I find out about them and myself. I see so much of my just-in-case attitude that I’ve got from my mother and my love of collecting quotes and articles from my Dad. It’s amazing how we start to turn into them in some ways. Hugs.
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I did not know that Corinne. Thanks for sharing that.
If I look at things I do on a daily basis, I’m also a mix of my mum and papa and true that we take up their habits over time.
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And as you live longer, you find what is remaining is just a husk of what your childhood home had once been. I am at that stage now 😦
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Hugs! I don’t know what to say. That would be even more hard to accept.
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Dear Parul we all become like our parents …. can we be anything else ? Accept it and you will be happier . I always tell my kids – don’t laugh at me for one day you will be laughing at yourself
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That’s a fun one to look at it. Thanks Sumit’s.
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What an endearing read, Parul. It is true that over the years, we all grow, imbibing the characteristics of those we live with, and also creating our own habits and traditions. Then for those with kids, the empty nest fills–sometimes with activities that were shelved and sometimes with new things now possible. Sometimes, reluctantly, sometimes naturally. In most cases, the co-existence of the partners is peaceful. Hugs!
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Hugs Vidya. I liked how you summed it not just about parents but people we live with.
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I can relate to this. It’s a strange thing to find yourself being the parent generation. The details of a culture different from my own enriched this for me.
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Thank you! I appreciate you stopping by and sharing your thoughts.
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Parul…this brought tears to my eyes…So nostalgic. So very true. For years we fight an invisible battle not to become our parents but the truth is we do become them…don’t we? So glad you wrote this piece.
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I could not agree more. We fight that battle only to discover that we are them. Thank you! Hugs.
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You’ve really captured the bittersweet emotion!
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Thank you!
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Beautiful observation. It happens in every house . You people are not here but your sweet memories are with us in form of your toys, frock, shirt , collection of pebbles,even eraser and many more .
In fact we live among them thinking living with u . Otherwise what else ?
We pray more because we always wish u PPL . to be happy and safe .
What else is left in the life ?
If children are happy , parents are happy .
Love you
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❤️
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Your writing is very heartfelt and vivid. I could picture the cards on the shelf, the lace, your parents (not their faces, but as souls). I could feel your nostalgia too, as you searched through old cupboards and the room that used to be your own. Your thoughts are clearly defined because of the honest tone of your writing, as well. (i.e. “Deep in my heart, I know I am also changing. Slowly becoming like my parents. I don’t want to believe this. I thought I was getting different experiences and living my life differently.)
I really loved this piece. It is beautiful and sad, but hopeful as well. Lovely!
PS You’ve gained a follower on Instagram! I glanced through and so far, love your work there. ❤
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Thank you so much! I wanted to write a little differently so worked on memories and details.
I appreciate you stopping by! Always happy to gain a new follower 🙂 thank you!
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You really captured the essence of time and how it changes us all with this piece. It made me nostalgic to go home and see the changes I know are there in my family’s lives.
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Thank you! Maybe you can write about them too.
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There is something gentle and sweet about this post, about going back home and reliving the good times. We do turn into our parents as we grow. Sometimes I look at a particular part of my home – a cushion cover or a bed spread or even in the way I’ve arranged fresh flowers and I see a reflection of my parents’ home.
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Thank you Tulika. My home still isn’t as my parents but I know one day it will. I know I fold and organize clothes like Mum and I also know I stack things like she does so maybe when I have my own place, it will be like my parents 🙂
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Lovely post reminded me of my parents who are no more and yes- there’s a big change. Our house is reconstructed and everything about the place just remains in my memory, I have picked up quite a bit from my mom – started to love cooking now like her, exploring new recipes … from my dad I have learnt to pray and trust in God. whenever I go that side, I feel sad and miss them in my life, but I keep comforting myself that this is not a permanent place for anyone hence I should live in the moment and enjoy what ever life offers:)
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Thank you, Angela! well said.
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Nicely written, as always!
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Thank you Sir! 😊
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Such a nostalgic post. You’ve bought memories to life Parulji. A wonderful read to start my morning 🙂
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