A warm cup of memories

Mom gets very annoyed when I discuss food. She feels thinking or talking about food is a waste of time. So apparently I am not suppose to write or speak about food. 

That can never happen Mom! Food and Tanvi Karnik go hand in hand.
 (Food lover - courtesy Dad. Weird wife - courtesy Mom)
However I have decided to discuss something else in my article today and will not be mentioning anything regarding food. (Happy Mom?)

Couple of days ago I decided to come home and work instead of going to office. It was a regular day, hot as usual, I took my cab straight home. Instead of taking it inside my building, I stopped outside my gate and decided to walk "the walk of shit".

To reach Wing B of my building there's a long stretch of concrete that is completely white due to the varied droppings of varied birds. My friend A has named this path of Rajdoot as "The walk of shit". I generally avoid walking there and instead always take my rick/cab inside. I am a literal shit magnet and attract all kinds of crap. (Thank you Universe)

But that day for some reason I walked there. Since the time I got married two months ago, I have developed extra love for my building. Maybe not for that "white" path but more so for the memories of my life before I left for good. When you get married your life gets divided into exactly two parts. One is your life before the event and one after. And when you get married, all you do for a while I guess is just dwell into your life before. Marriage is wonderful and difficult at the same time. And you constantly pine for your old life while at the same time you cannot imagine being alive without your husband. It's a weird paradox.

While walking on the path I was once again lost in the myriad of memories of my life before. Years passed by effortlessly in walks, talks, fun, fights, laughter and happiness. My building which I took for granted was my place of refuge and solitude. I never really gave that a thought. When I walk there now I think of all the tiny moments there which must have some how shaped me into the person I am today. 

I remember the time how I used to sit by my window and have tea with Mom, discussing everything that used to run in my head at that time. I remember the time I was so excited to ride my new cycle that I fell off the staircase and had a swollen lip during the New Years building party. 
The tamarind tree we used to try to climb to collect imli. I could never climb that tree so would have to make do with the imli that was already fallen down. I remember scaring my friend that "Divya Bharti's" spirit walks around our terrace and she is staring down at us right now. (I can make people cry with my horror stories)

I remember my failed attempt at building a treehouse, falling off the ramp while skating, vandalising my friend's cycle since he was a mean jerk, getting drenched in the first rain shower, walking to my bus stop holding Dad's warm hand during the cold winters, sitting on strips of cardboard and sliding down the stairs. I remember my blue swing where my friend and I shared a bottle of Coke and chips. The corner garage where I have sat with friends and family, discussing each and everything that happens between life and death.
 If I give this more thought, I could come up with a thousand more. 

But while life changes 360 degrees, even today I am still the same girl. I don't think marriage has changed me. My priorities may have changed, but I still want to climb the imli tree, build a treehouse and hold my Dad's hand when it gets too cold. I still want to sit on my blue swing with a bottle of Coke and I definitely wish I could skate. 

And even now I sit with my mother with a warm cup of tea by the window, trying to remember some more of the warm memories whilst creating some new ones as life goes on. 


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