A Whiff Of Nostalgia
December 2013. Driving into the lane
alongside Panniyankara Police Station, I took the first turn to the left. About
400 metres down the road, I turned slightly to the right and stopped in front
of a large, metal gate. As I waited for it to be opened, looking through the
gate and beyond the long driveway, I caught a glimpse of the imposing structure.
I savoured the moment as it was my last visit to the grand home which was to soon
change hands.
Poornima (23rd Oct 1961 – Circa
2014), my maternal family home, was witness to many events over the years. The
venue of many a sacred relationship forged, it was the place for family get-togethers.
It was the scene of much banter and a happy playground for children. Kids derived great joy out of closely following
the lives of and feeding its many four-legged residents. The buffet of fruits offered by the trees was heavenly. More
importantly, the home was the “family headquarters” from where the dear Emperor and
Empress of the kingdom (Grandpa & Grandma) presided over their large
family. Over time, many of its residents would leave home to lead their lives
but there would always be a little bit of Poornima in people who lived
there or visited.
My trips to Poornima were few and far
between except for the two years I lived in Calicut. The emotional connect with
it, though, is strong. It was my first “home” after birth. There are
innumerable recollections of wonderful times spent with members of the large family.
The personalities of its occupants, especially the grand old man and his iron lady,
added tremendous character to the place.
Poornima is inextricably entwined with the family`s history. Like many,
I was sad that this giant symbol of our roots would shortly move on.
During my visit, armed with enthusiasm,
a camera and the competence of an amateur photographer, I went about clicking pictures
of every corner of the 22-room mansion. Every place told a story - As I moved
from room to room, I was reminded of people, conversations and feelings.
Documenting the physical structure was my way of clinging on to a slice of the family`s
heritage. Perhaps, the photographs would help supplement anecdotes I would
someday share with my son who was yet to truly understand what the home stood
for.
The visit done, it was time to leave
and my heart was heavy. That December day, as I drove towards the gate, I
resisted the urge to turn and cast a final look at the magnificent 52 year-old
edifice. I didn`t want the melancholy of the moment to overshadow the pleasant remembrance
of the home.
RIP, Poornima, and thank you for a
lifetime of memories !
