Saturday, March 04, 2006

"Paint House"

O maga koraga, yencha barpa na?
Karkala-da Gommatana kunde thoopana?

I grew up in a big town that never really became a city. And I come home to find that it still wants to say hello to me.

I sat at the table in a very lush restaurant tonight. I sat smiling and a little tipsy. Not from the beer that I'd had about 4 hours ago, but from the silly jokes that me and my Dad were cracking. My little sister and my mum sat with us, laughing uncontrollably at every lewd comment we cracked in crass Konkani and Tulu words. We sang those lines over and over again in rowdy celebration. We are your typical happy family.

I wouldn't want to tell you too much about my family. A certain Ms.Albert Wooster once told me it was an odd thing to do.

But I will tell you a couple of things. The stories aren't any fun otherwise.

As we sat at the table the tension would build every once in a while. When you find a couple that lives and works together all day and night, I'm figuring you'd end up with your hefty slice of issues. But they do a splendid job of dealing with it. They're awesome people, really.

And then there's me and my kid sister. She's the diplomat, the smooth talker. She works her angles with my Dad, with brilliant panache. And if that doesn't work, I cut in with some pointless story about IIT that manages to calm all of em down. It's been a very fun 20 odd years I say! And you don't go through em without learning a thing or two about cutting tension.

Bottom line? Home feels great. Especially when monotony is the issue that's been wearing me down.

I come home and find that Dad always has something embarrassingly interesting to say. That Mum will still run around the house left, right and center, never once complaining about how shamelessly we tend to take her for granted, just to get me a glass of mango juice when I lie on the couch.

That my kid sis still looks up to me to give her direction in what she's doing. That my old pals from school are still always there, even after months of zero contact, to say hello to. That my dog Suzy, will still drool all over my freshly washed jeans and run back and forth in a fit for no apparent reason. That my fridge will always be there, stocked with the sambar that was cooked that afternoon and a bar of 5-star tucked away behind the curd by my sister so my dad won't find it.

That, home still feels like... home.


O maga koraga, yencha barpa na?

Karkala-da Gommatana kunde thoopana?
 

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