My alma mater: Sardar Patel Vidyalaya in New Delhi.
This past trip to India turned out to be a trip down memory lane. As you’ve read in A shared history, I met up with classmates from my ‘old school’ SPV. Some people I hadn’t met in 25 years, but it was amazing. I felt so at home & it seemed as if ‘time had stood still’ so as to speak. Much had of course happened in the span of 25 years (😉), but somehow we still looked the same, acted and interacted the same, and had lots of stories to share.
Yes, indeed if you’ve read Colours of a Cultural Chameleon, and you studied at SPV you might recognize some aspects I’ve described in the book; like the silent way of greeting –>
In other schools in India (in the 90s) kids used to rise from their chair as the teacher entered, and in unison sing-song ‘Goooodd Mooorrrnnningg Maddamm/Sirrr’.
Excerpt from Colours of a Cultural Chameleon
During my visit we also went on a few wild goose chases, as I had this unstoppable urge to revisit my childhood homes. However, we didn’t remember all the exact addresses and I didn’t feel inclined to being stuck in Delhi traffic all day long nor for days on an end. We opted to visit a few in the vicinity, one which I describe in Colours of a Cultural Chameleon as G19 in GK. When we finally found G19, it had no resemblance to my memories and those 8 mm videos I watched as a child. Then when we turned our gaze to the neighbour’s house; there it was: my childhood home as I remembered it. Unfortunately ‘beautification’ had taken place the ‘original one’ had been totally renovated with no tell tale signs of its past history.
And off we went in search of other cherries from the past. One was again unrecognizable! I suppose much does change in 25 years, I mean I myself no longer am that little girl walking to the bus-stop waiting for the school bus to arrive. However, at this house we were told that it was renovated just a year ago. What a pity! I wish I had travelled back to my Delhi homes on one of my numerous previous visits. Alas, I had not. Often I had thought of visiting, but it never materialised. Delhi traffic is horrendous (it takes 2 hrs to get to this side of town from my mom’s place). Glad I put in the effort and made it this time round, even though most homes were unrecognizable to me 😉.
Some things however never change ☺️, like public housing.
These DDA flats (built by Delhi Development Authority) still looked the same. The only problem was that all houses are a carbon copy of the other; and as I didn’t remember the exact house number I wasn’t sure which was ‘my old home’.
The home where fond memories were created. This was the home where I lived as a 10 year old. I remember the community we kids had created in the neighbourhood. Some of our terraces were interconnected, some windows overlooked each others’ homes. Some of us lived on the ground floor, while others on the top floor. A mix of families from different regions in India. Together we celebrated all religious and non-religious festivals. Soaking each other with pitchkaris filled with Holi coloured water, sharing sweets on Eid, and gifting each other a present at X-mas. Those were the days!
Come think of it: It was amazing, a cross-cultural community initiated by kids.
All these memories, and many more, came rushing back when I walked up the stairs of this insignificant looking building: one of my former homes.
Have you too been on ‘childhood home hunts’?
Shakti Hannie 