Pritam's Blog
The House
Even with his meagre salary as a clerk in the Public Works Department (PWD), Daa ensured to save a certain amount every year to fence the entire house, clean the pond, prune the trees, and remove the unnecessary shrubs and bushes.
The house was never neglected when he was alive. It was well looked after, neat and tidy. The walls of the old house were coloured every two-three years and the cracks repaired.
Now, it looks like a haunted house in a jungle. It’s hard to believe that it was the same house where, as a kid, I could walk around fearlessly at night. The grown up me wouldn’t dare to do it now for the fear of snakes and the likes.
Not that I am fond of all the memories of the time I spent in this house. In fact, some of the worst things that I have witnessed in my life, which have left me emotionally damaged in many ways, happened here.
But I cannot deny that I grew up here. It also happens to be the place where I spent time with my grandpa…I think I will always have a certain kind of weakness for this place.
My parents live in a different house not far from here and they visit here very often. One of my uncles has settled outside. My other uncle and his family, my aunt, grandma, and my grandpa’s younger brother with his family live in that house now. They are well to do, far better than my grandpa.
My understanding of their financial condition was then supported by my grandma’s rant. I overheard her telling my aunty about a guy from the neighborhood. Seems like his father was badly beaten up by someone. My uncle, it seems, had given 5000 bucks to the guy for the treatment of his poor father. But he didn’t spend it on that. Grandma was super pissed off…
Anyway, I realized the lack of maintenance of the old house was not because they cannot afford it. It’s simply because of carelessness, I guess. Or maybe because everybody wants someone else to take the initiative. ‘Why should I take the initiative? I am not the only owner…’
The conversation between my grandma and my aunty found a new topic now. Somebody got married. I decided to leave quietly before they realize the 29 year old, unmarried me was sitting in the other room.
I went out for a stroll. Around the house. The sad condition of the very house where I spent 15 years of my life isn’t something I can remain blind to… I thought I would ask my dad in the evening to take the initiative of renovating the house and that I would pay for it if required.
But then it occurred to me that the mere mention of it would give hope to my father. He will probably misinterpret it as something I long for… He will think that I miss the house and the place and that I want to come back…
Just because I care about the house doesn’t mean I miss it or that I want to return. But he won’t understand that.
I decided to let it go… And I didn’t feel bad about it anymore.