Life Story Series (Part -1)

I was born in a pretty conventional family settled outside home. My father had migrated to Delhi in the late 1980s looking for a job as a teacher. When my mother got married to my father, she also came to Delhi and settled here. But even today, despite the fact that they have lived in Delhi for more than twenty years they still don’t think of it as home. Yes we have permanent niche, where we all are comfortable and in sync with; but a home which we sister have known and loved; but my parents, there hearts refuses to leave home, i.e Kerala.

I sometimes wonder, what draws them on to that distant place, frankly for me and my sister it was more of a holiday destination and not you know roots, home and other cliche sentiments; that we had for Delhi and more specifically to a small locality built in the outskirts of Delhi. For them, life cannot be any better than it was and will be in Kerala; for both of them it seems. But the interesting thing is, nothing that they associated with home when they were twenty; when they were leaving it to settle in new place, no longer exist except in memories. Siblings have left home to settle in foreign lands, parents have gone away somewhere or are somewhat lost, neighbors have shifted to new lands, ways, climate, land everything has changed. Then why still the dezire to go back, when in reality no one really can go back?

What is it that they want to go back to? Is it memories? Is it a place that can harness those memories? Maybe, that is what one needs at times, to go back in time to rediscover a self lost in the ravages of time. And so here I begin my return to past.




I use fiction to pump friction into mundane realities.

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tipsy tomes

tipsy tomes

I use fiction to pump friction into mundane realities.

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