The Evening Bliss

 

We were having a perfectly perfect evening; enjoying nostalgic songs with the loving company of each other. The social butterfly in me so wanted to take a snap of that moment and share in status; so, I did. I do not know if it is the song or the evening, which brought me back to my childhood memories in my grandparent’s house. How different the evenings were!

Sandya or sunset times were the time of prayer. My grandmother, being the lady of the house lit the nilavilakku or the evening lamp. My aunts would sit in the next room and start their evening chants.

Once the time of divine was over, it was time for family. My grandfather used to get his chair outside to the cemented front porch which is half shrouded by a huge branch of a mango tree. He always sat in the same chair, be it inside the house or out in the porch. I was so accustomed to his punctilious attachment to the chair that even when he was not home, I always looked at the chair with respect. In fact, I have rarely seen anyone sitting on his chair; maybe I was not the only one.

One by one, the whole family would assemble there, occupying their spots in the cemented floor and steps. One thing my family is great at is, being comfortable in silence. They might sit there for a very long time but never utter a word. But it is the family time nonetheless. This bonding in silence was interrupted occasionally by some comments mostly by the younger aunt or uncle.

Sometimes they discussed titbits of everyday life, the yield from the farm or news about distant relatives. With mixed feelings of fear and respect for elders, I sat there weaving scenarios in my head, eyes fixated on something I find fascinating, the shadows or the flame of the hurricane lamp. On nights around the full moon, it was surreal to watch the moonlight casting shadow of the branches and leaves dancing with the occasional visit of the breeze. Most of the time I got the unhindered version of this shadow dance as evenings were over loomed by power cut. Hence the poor hurricane lamp used to be summoned for the futile task of lighting up the entire porch. I could sense the feeling of sorry when the flickering flames try to hide behind the thin layer of carbon on the glass cover.

Later when my parents moved to a separate house, my father tried to keep this tradition as much as he could. But it was limited to the evenings with power cut, to catch some breeze on hot summer evenings. Other days we diligently assembled in front of the television, eager to get transported to a land away from everyday chores and worries.  

These memories left me wondering what kind of tradition we will be setting for our family when time comes. Will the children be interested in sitting with parents anymore?

I doubt it.

May be.

I do not know.

Maybe they will get tired of virtual world.

May be the real world and family time will become a novelty only few can afford, whose parents has luxury of time. Only time can tell!