“Mom, look at our house, poor thing! Should be shivering!” little Joshi came to me running!.
He was gasping. I was busy with my preparation for the lunch. Rice was boiling on the oven. I was cutting some drumsticks and ladyfingers for the sauce. I must finish it before his dad would come.
But the little fellow was much moved. I couldn't understand what he was telling.
“House, shivering? How can it be?” I thought he was kidding about the pouring rain.
“Come with me and look at our shivering house, mom,” he seemed to be much disheartened at the sight of our house. He pulled me to the front door.
“Look there mom, our house is fully drenched in the rain!” He pointed to one of the wall.
The spot he pointed was in shabby color as the paint had peeled out. Black fungus and damages in the wall were giving the it a bad appearance.
People were walking along the street wearing overcoats to protect themselves from the rain. Joshi also has kept his overcoat at the entrance ready to wear when he goes out . The sky was gloomy and weeping in torrents over the negligent people
“We are wearing shirts and coats; and you are wearing a saree and a blouse. But what about our house, mom?”
“We shall cover the house with coats of different colors! We shall make it beautiful!” Joshi was still exhibiting the castles of his imaginary and innocent world!
How can I convince him? How can I protect his house of dreams?
The question was torturing my mind. What little Joshi has touched needs a very deep thought.
Yes, our house needs an overcoat. It needs protection. The place which is supposed to protect all of us needs protection!
House: The place of expectations
Every house is a place of expectations! It is a place of waiting for love. If there is no expectation it can no longer be a home or house. When I look out, I can see vehicles flying on the street outside our house. Nobody is expecting them here. Or we, in the house do not expect them either. I have seen people waiting at the gates of houses expecting someone. I have seen the anxiety of people waiting for others. Even at late hours of dark nights, under the street light some one is waiting for some beloved of his heart! Imagine those faces of expectations. Imagine the waves of those restless hearts. It reminded the words of my friend that wherever she went she carried her house also. I wondered how she could carry a building. Now I understand. It is not a space. It is an identity. Identity of selfless love. An identity where hearts melt into nothingness!
What is that string of attachment!
The other day while I was returning from my evening walk, I could enjoy the reddened face of the sun who was hurrying to his home in the west, the loud fluttering of the returning birds, the high tides carrying the fishermen in haste to reach the place where they had kept their hearts, and the evening breeze blowing faster than the people whose restless thoughts were already in their house!
We have seen the birds flying to their nests! We have seen even insects and animals returning to their dwelling places. What is this strange string of attachment that is forcing all living beings to a place called house, nest or a place of rest?
Is there a fading change?
What happened to our houses? The uniting string of love is becoming weaker and weaker. The wombs are growing empty! Even those who escape the womb to see the earth are snatched away from the bond of love to live in fear, hatred and violence! The cheerful laughter of a house is dead now and is buried in the deafening noise of TV, etc. The place of expectations no more is waiting for us. The hopes of expectations are already paralyzed!
Don't we feel the nauseating crave for what we are losing day by day?
Yes, our house needs an overcoat! we need a bond of real love!
Another problem is that the author has used words that does not reflect age. for example, Joshi is a kid, but he talks like a grown-up. I think the author should have used words that would have otherwise spoken by a kid.