The Moving Chronicles

A person is neither whole nor healthy without the memories of photo albums. They are the storybook of our lives. They provide a nostalgic escape from the tormented days of the present.
                 Patrick Garry

Part III
continued from Part II

We left Hisar the very next day, having put our 'home' and its wares on the move. There were bound to be some emotional scenes, but the real scenes surpassed anything that I had ever imagined. We were not just saying goodbye to a place but something that had become pretty much a way of life in the past four years or so. 

The lovely Haryanvi dialect and the typical accent, which I, would rather describe as intoxicating. The way of life in the Jat heartland, where people can follow just about anything and everything except for rules. The ever so helpful neighbours. Mummam's daily routine of dusting the home twice and the frequent sandstorms putting paid to her efforts every now and then. Seeing the boys go after the girls on their bikes showing off their 'macho', perched on the roof with guitar in hand, which the old timers around described as tuntuna

The AIR tower, Hisar  
One of the many shots during my daily landscape photography sessions from atop the roof. Oh yes - I developed my love for photography here as well.

Living in a comparetively small town has its virginal charms. The roads are immune to traffic hold ups, driving is indeed a pleasure, you find the cost of living rather low, and if I were to believe Papa's inputs who has been puting up in Mumbai for almost a year now, "at the end of the day, you do get time off for yourself."   

For me Hisar was all that and more... much more. I fell in love with kids. (previosly defined as 'altogether unfathomable creatures, that I just couldn't stand, come what may', in my life's dictionary.) And that happened, thanks to this cute little angel called Kanan that I got to know from the day she was born, and watched as she grew up to be the smartest two year old I've spent my time with. You really made me look forward to my holidays from college sweetie, even if it meant having to go to a place where they think supplying power for eight hours a day during summers is a big obligation. And I got that unforgettable high of life when Chunmun topped her CBSE boards. Seems just like yesterday...

that's her :)

Of course, there were other interesting things that I learnt during my brief, permanent stay in Hisar. Not everybody in the world is meant to gate crash into IITs. And life looks much more liveable when thought of and tried to live, the easy way out. 

This was the whirlpool of thoughts that flooded my mind as I drove out of Hisar, for what seemed like - the last time. Mummam could afford to cry, being the female that she is, while I had to control myself. Gosh! I never bothered to find what Papa's face looked like. But for a change, no one looked at the speedometer while I was at the wheel that day, and in a flash, we had come faraway from another of our nomadic bases...  

to be continued...

Listening to: Streets of Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen

Dedicated to: Err... The cute lil' kid you see in the pic - Kanan 


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6 reflected back...:

The photograph's lovely :) Kanan's cute :)

For me Hisar was all that and more... much more. One sure can make that out...

The whole description is beautiful...

Take care... Have a great weekend...

Hmmm... indeed a 'Moving' chronicle...

what else do I say except that I so understand every bit of it. Happy settling down at the new place.

@ Miss Kido:
yes she is... and thanks a lot... :)

@ Akansha Agrawal:
puns intended? :P

@ ss:
thank you for the wishes... need each of them badly... :)

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