I am a big proponent for change. With lack of change comes stagnation and gradual death. However, how much of change is good and are all changes done for the better?
I think we don't have control over most things that happen around us and to us. There is just a tiny sliver in our lives that are within our control. Out of the things that are beyond my reach, one is what my neighbors do to their houses. In India, it is even more difficult. Here if my neighbor suddenly wants to build a tannery in his yard I can at least call the cops, but in India that can't be done either. So when I went up to the terrace and saw most of the familiar buildings either demolished or hidden from view because the houses in between got demolished and tall buildings got built there, I could just breathe a deep sigh.
When I was very little and was just learning about the directions, my aunt taught me those by telling me about the houses we have on the four sides of our home. Even today, wherever I maybe in the world, I associate "north" with the hospital, "east" with a street and so on. However, this time when I went back home I saw the house next door (in between our house and the hospital) got demolished and they are building a five storied house there which completely blocks the hospital from my view. The top floor of that hospital was something I looked at from our terrace. In winter, the clear blue sky beyond it was something that reminded me of far off lands. In the evening, the big dipper came up right there. Now I won't be able to see the big dipper from my terrace any more.
There was another house on the other side of the street that had a beautiful room on their terrace. It reminded me of a small house with a garden and I just loved the look of it. Now they have covered that entire open terrace with an ugly looking asbestos sheet for reasons I have no clue about. That spoiled the entire look of it!
One family used to put a lamp high up on a pole from their terrace during the Bengali month of Kartik in fall. Those lamps are supposed to be put up to seek the blessings of ancestors who are in heaven. That house is blocked from my sight now so even if they put up lamps, I won't know. On the evening before Diwali (Kali pujo) when my sister and I would go around the house lighting the fourteen candles, we would go up to the terrace and look at the night sky. In the cool breeze of those fall evenings, with a stray firework lighting up the sky, that lamp used to look so pretty.
I wonder if those families know that a little girl from a random house used to carefully watch some things they probably did mechanically. When I go home I want to look for things I used to know as a kid. That has a comforting feeling. Home is not enclosed within the four walls of the house itself, it encompasses lots of stuff. While change is good, there is comfort in knowing some things do not change. I have no control over changes that other people make but it makes me very sad to see the old comforting things of my childhood going away.
I think we don't have control over most things that happen around us and to us. There is just a tiny sliver in our lives that are within our control. Out of the things that are beyond my reach, one is what my neighbors do to their houses. In India, it is even more difficult. Here if my neighbor suddenly wants to build a tannery in his yard I can at least call the cops, but in India that can't be done either. So when I went up to the terrace and saw most of the familiar buildings either demolished or hidden from view because the houses in between got demolished and tall buildings got built there, I could just breathe a deep sigh.
When I was very little and was just learning about the directions, my aunt taught me those by telling me about the houses we have on the four sides of our home. Even today, wherever I maybe in the world, I associate "north" with the hospital, "east" with a street and so on. However, this time when I went back home I saw the house next door (in between our house and the hospital) got demolished and they are building a five storied house there which completely blocks the hospital from my view. The top floor of that hospital was something I looked at from our terrace. In winter, the clear blue sky beyond it was something that reminded me of far off lands. In the evening, the big dipper came up right there. Now I won't be able to see the big dipper from my terrace any more.
There was another house on the other side of the street that had a beautiful room on their terrace. It reminded me of a small house with a garden and I just loved the look of it. Now they have covered that entire open terrace with an ugly looking asbestos sheet for reasons I have no clue about. That spoiled the entire look of it!
One family used to put a lamp high up on a pole from their terrace during the Bengali month of Kartik in fall. Those lamps are supposed to be put up to seek the blessings of ancestors who are in heaven. That house is blocked from my sight now so even if they put up lamps, I won't know. On the evening before Diwali (Kali pujo) when my sister and I would go around the house lighting the fourteen candles, we would go up to the terrace and look at the night sky. In the cool breeze of those fall evenings, with a stray firework lighting up the sky, that lamp used to look so pretty.
I wonder if those families know that a little girl from a random house used to carefully watch some things they probably did mechanically. When I go home I want to look for things I used to know as a kid. That has a comforting feeling. Home is not enclosed within the four walls of the house itself, it encompasses lots of stuff. While change is good, there is comfort in knowing some things do not change. I have no control over changes that other people make but it makes me very sad to see the old comforting things of my childhood going away.
