A Strange Childhood

We had always discussed buying a home and settling in India as a far off possibility, never seriously. It was hard for us to envisage living apart and impossible for my husband to think of working anywhere but in Kuwait. He had always worked there right from the start, he knew the market well and everyone knew him equally well. It would be impossible to build those kind of contacts in a new place.
But the fact, that our eldest daughter would be finishing her schooling soon and would need to pursure her further education in our home country, could not be ignored. So at some point I began half hearted, perfunctory searches on the internet for a suitable flat in Mumbai.

Mumbai was the place where my family lived and it had always been dear to me. As a child I grew up with a maiden aunt about 170 km from Mumbai. I would always be happy to come back to Mumbai, to my father's house and to the family. It was a lonely existence where we lived, away in the quietness of the country. Mumbai though, was vibrant, and so was our family home there. It was always filled with people from all over the world, as my father loved to entertain and had many friends everywhere.

Besides that, at that time both the seaport and international airport were in Mumbai, and any relatives or friends who were travelling abroad and who resided in other towns, would invariably stay with us, for the duration that it took to get their documents in order. So it was that we would almost always arrive from the country to an exciting house, filled with interesting people. All our photographs of our childhood have been taken at the airport, either receiving someone, or seeing someone off. In those days, travel was not as common as it is now, and it was traditional for all the relatives and friends to go to the airport to see off or recive the passenger, as well as to take a flower garland very like a Hawaiian lei, for them. So it was that we would drive off, often in the early hours of the morning, to the airport to see off friends and relatives.

My siblings also lived in Mumbai. We owned quite a large, five storey apartment block, half of which was rented out to tenants, and different flats in the other half were occupied by us and our aunts, uncles and cousins. The flat which my family occupied was actually three large flats in one so there was always a lot of space ofr everyone and everything... even my fathe's perfume and incense laboratory.. Dad made perfumes and incense sticks and the whole place smelt deliciously of jasmine, rose, keora, vetiver, amber, Indian jasmine, night jasmine, etc etc etc... Growing up with such a plethora of intoxicating fragrances, it is impossible for me to bear cheap perfume now.

As the flat was huge all of us cousins used to gather on its terrace and play a variety of games and this again was something I missed growing up alone in my solitary castle, for solitary castle it was, a huge run down mansion like house, completely empty except for us three, who occupied the second floor and one very very old Parsi couple who lived in a dusty unkempt place on the first floor.. They though seemed like ghosts, as they never went out nor did anyone ever come to visit them.

So it was almost enough excitement for a little girl, but that was not all for through the holidays my father would take us to exhibitions, fairs, the circus and to the movies. He loved movies and made sure that he took us to all the good children's movies that came. I inherited his love for sharing good movies and do it with my children now, sharing the many wonderful movies I had first seen in the theatre with my father: the list is endless, Those magnificent men in their flying machines, Chitty chitty bang bang, Singling nuns, Sound of music, Mary Poppins, My fair lady, Hatari, Born free, African Safari, etc being some I remember....I was most gratified when my daughters loved Benhur as much as my father and I had done.