At Home in a Coupe By Sheela Jaywant (If im not mistaken she is part of the HiaooU family) It took us five days from Jammu to Chennai by train,crossing all geographical terrains across the Subcontinent.We took no breaks,crossing platforms as we changed trains at various junctions, with our black tin trucks and hold-alls.Yes, we travelled first class,no there was no air-conditioning,yes we had to carry our own bedding and food,and no it wasnt as bad as you might imagine. The pantry staff filled boiled-cooled water in our plastic jerry cans so our toddler son could keep his routine intact. Disposal diapers were two decades away,so the the white muskin nappies had to be washed and dried in chugging trains. A few of our own meals( parathas,dry,vegetables,squash-bottles of limbu sherbet, fried savouries like matthree,ice packed in thermacol boxes) were provided by kind friends who met us at various stations,where the train halted at uneathly hours. Those were pre-plastic-ware,pre-paper-napkin days.Those were also days of unpredictable arrival times for many cross-country journeys.We were fortunate that we didnt miss any connection anywhere,as we had when we moved from Hyderabad and Wellington. We were to proceed to Coimbatore from Chennai, this time with an energetic black Labrador too,when we were informed that the carriage wasnt going to be attached.There were other military families like us,all heading towards the same destination. Whilst the men were busy sorting out the paperwork,we wives bonded instantly,opening up our bags and making ourselves at home in the waiting room where we eventually spent the night smelling strongly of mosquito repellent cream. Early morning,in typical military tradition,our children were bathed,changed,and ready to move. We had managed a breakfast of sorts with the help of the station chaiwalas and our own packed fare. Whilst in the beginning it was a little odd to set up home in the homes of people whod gone on leave-using their kitchens,their vessels,their linen,reading their books-playing musical-houses became part of our lives. Ive lived in a garage converted into a bedroom-kitchen,a tent where the loo was a DTL(deep trench latrine) shared by a couple of others,a large four-bedroom colonial bungalow,a modern government flat with a garden in front and another at the back,in a Mess where I cooked on a single table. When I had to write,I simply moved all the tins,vessels and the solitary wick stove to the floor,to replace them when I had to cook again. There were times when we were finally alloted a quater ,off we had to move again. In pre-TV,pre-ISD/mobile-phone days,we wives had the time to talk to each other,learn cooking and housework from each other.I have helped my neighbour dry her husbands turban.It was starched from the rice I cooked,and we stretched,pleated and folded it under the afternoon sun so he could wear it for the nights function. In turn,she tidied up my house and fed my family(dog included) so i could rest after a bout of viral flu.We didnt think much of such things,and obligation was a word we could barely spell. Our husbands job was highly risky. One didnt know,when one kissed good-bye in the morning,whether one would see him again. It was this camaraderie amongst the wives, the strong tradition of caring, that kept one sane,happy,comforted in the thought that,in spite of meagre salaries, we would be looked after by the Services should tradey strike. Children grew up in the outdoors,hearing hyenas,seeing the occasional neelgai, monitor lizards,falcons,bulbuls,kingfishers,dragon-flies,fire-flies;they learnt their geography first hand.Home was anywhere in India,neighbours and companions could be from Guwahati,Trivandrum,Jabalpur---It didnt matter. Caste,creeds,communities blended.Festivals were diluted,but there was always a reason to celebrate something:even if the stray cat littered behind the shopping centre,we bought samosas and jalebis. Uniformed Uncles,and their wives,the Aunties, had staple behaviour,high standards of morals and life was simple,predictable.Everyone owned a cycle,some had a motorised two-wheeler;private cars in Campus caused heads to turn.Wallets,water-bottles,mosquito- nets,casseroles, were of standard colours,standard materials:they were all bought from The Canteen. Home was India,anywhere in India,even a coupe would do. (Sheela Jaywant)
Posted on: Sat, 12 Jul 2014 03:57:13 +0000
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