Root yourself

As I was talking to my sister on the phone today, our talks took us back to our parents’ house. The house where our father would fasten a rope swing for us, the lane we used to play in, our verandah we used as a stage for our plays which were produced and directed by yours truly. Ah, the nostalgia hit me.

Old age? You might say that but I think going back to our roots is important, as we grow old. It keeps us on earth. Once we grow up and make careers, we touch new milestones in our life. Those of us who come from middle class and make it big feel happy that we have achieved so much.

In this modern world, we lead frantic, hectic lives. We get caught in the hustle bustle of life that we lose sight of where we thought we were going and what we thought we were going to do. Visiting old memories reminds us of our dreams and aspirations, our hopes and our fears. It is a reality check.

Once we achieve great heights in our career and have amassed great wealth, some of us get into denial about where we started from. Some of us are ashamed to have started from a low background. But you know what that gives us  a greater insecurity. There are too many plugs to be filled. But once we acknowledge our background no matter how humble that is, we can truly enjoy our new status in life.  Another advantage, that is, it never lets the success go to our head. We remain rooted.

My parents were middle-class people who worked hard to send us to the best schools in Delhi and made sure we get everything that they might not have got. My father had to leave all his wealth and home in Pakistan during partition and he had to start from scratch. So he made sure that his children did not have to feel lacking. And, in fact that has always kept me on ground.

I may set a perfect table today with salad and eating fork at their proper place, a dessert spoon on the top and soup spoon on the right but all this came because our parents made sure we could learn all this. And I can never forget that. So I played hopscotch with my friends in the lane but I also learned to eat an omelette with fork and knife.

Though give me my daal chawal to eat with my hands. Add a little pickle.That is my root and I am proud of it.

Are you?