Let Me Be Your Guest
"Atithi Devo Bhava" means guest is akin to God, as Indian culture says. But what happens when you are tired and drained from being a host for years, yet you do it because it is what it is.
Since my inception, we have been a one big happy joint family. Happy was a myth or reality, nobody knows. But being born and raised in an Indian society, every second home was a joint family, like ours.
We were a dozen of members, living under one roof. More number of members meant many extended relations and friendships. My grandfather and grandmother being one of the eldest siblings in their own households, our home was the focal point of all relatives, friends, families. And whoever was in the town, even for a few hours, would always try to make some time and visit us. It was neither a norm nor a necessity, it was (as my father says) respect towards the relationship and the people.
My grandparents, parents, uncles and aunts, all have been a jolly good heart warming good people and hosts. In a house of six bedrooms, we have accommodated people more than its capacity, because- “dil mein humesha jagah honi chahiye” (There should always be a room in the heart). And with this ideology, we grew up. Most of the time our weekends were usually busy, cousins visiting us, or our uncles and aunts visiting us, or if there was a celebration at home, bunch of relatives were invited over. I have seen my mother and aunts, being working moms, helping in kitchen, making rooms for guests, making them feel comfortable and cosy. While females of the house were always on their toes without getting a second to relax and enjoy the company, men, on the other hand, simply enjoyed instructing them on how one should cook, serve, garnish, decorate while sharing their ‘heroic stories’ of how good cook they have been (without even doing an ounce of work). This was normal and this is normal in any middleclass Indian household. As I grew up, I loved purchasing show pieces, types of dinnerware and serve ware, loved organising toiletries and linens, simply because I enjoyed and also because, we always wanted to show our best, beautiful, neat and clean sides. But at the same time, I was reluctant to do so, do be a host, because of a few reasons, such as, a) why we should always be the host; b) why only females are in the kitchen with list of instructions; c) why was it only me who (knowingly or unknowingly) served water and tea while my cousins get to sit, play games and eat without even moving from the couch; and d) guest coming without any intimation or us entertaining them beyond our daily hours.
Since, my father was in a transferrable job, he lived thousands kilometres away from us. But during the days of postcards and letters, my father kept us all informed about his life, work, who paid him a visit, who came to town, whom he invited over for lunch. Even today I hear one of his favourite memories where few of our distant relatives were on a vacation in that city and when they came to know my father was there, they paid him a visit. My father, being a good cook (or maybe a host too), prepared delicious North Indian cuisines and relatives took a sigh of relief because that city gave them a culture shock as they were unable to find North Indian food.
Spending more than 20 years in the same home, going through many ups and downs, doors of this home are always open. But amidst all of this, many times my heart wished to get invited and be a guest at someone’s place, where I am greeted and treated well as a family member. Where I am served delicious food, comfortable bed and bedding, and showered with love. I wouldn’t deny that I haven’t received any such opportunities. I have but not as many as number of people and families has visited us. Going as a guest to those houses, meant to help and assist women in kitchen, while men enjoyed sitting, talking and get served.
I am exhausted being a host, not because I have to help and settle (or maybe one of the reasons) but because I also want to feel and enjoy the moments of doing nothing or not being asked to do something. I want to play video games, read books while the plate walks up to me by self and be in the shoes of my cousins. I miss being pampered. I would love to cherish the simple joys of sitting on the sofa and being served mojitos in summers or tea in winters, along with some samosas, khandvi, gulab jamuns and variety of savouries. After that, having full course meal with delicious gravies, dals, salads, or chhole bhature and raita. And then comes the final meal, dessert, either halwa or some ice-cream with a twist. Buuurrppp!!!! Before leaving the house, receiving money or gifts from the hosts. And amidst all of this, doing nothing but sitting, sleeping, relaxing and enjoying.
Syonara! until next time. Because my doorbell just rang and Sharmas are here for lunch. And as it is said "Atithi Devo Bhava", so wish me luck to be a good host this afternoon.