A lane in the valley where I grew up is indeed a very special lane as it has assumed the status of memory lane in my life. All the years which I spent away from the valley, this lane remained etched on my mind with every house, every tree and every garden remaining alive in my memories. I never felt that I was away, the city where I had gone was rather too big and I missed my little lane every day that I stayed there. The picture-perfect image of the lane kept me going in the many years I spent away from Doon.
There were about 10 houses in the lane. So our world was confined to these homes and the families who stayed there. We did not need anything or anyone else. It was a complete world. The largest house was almost like a haveli and belonged to a big family of landowners. They owned some tea gardens and sugar mills too. Despite all their wealth, they were down-to-earth and very simple. The old mother was the head of the family. Her two sons and one unmarried daughter (several daughters were married already) lived in the house along with several uncles and aunts from the maternal as well as paternal side. Theirs was a lovely house where guests always landed up to stay for months.
Next to their house was old Mishraji’s house. This old gentleman lived all by himself as both his daughters were married. He was a good-humoured person and all the neighbours visited him often. Whenever any special dish was cooked in any of the homes, Mishraji’s share was sent to him. So his family was spread all over the lane. There was no question of his being alone or lonely.
In the green coloured house amid the silver oak trees lived my friend Vatsala who was fondly know as Vasu. She was a tomboy and her mother used to have a tough time bringing her down from the fruit trees in their compound. She could always be seen munching on unripe mangoes and plums. Naughty she was. In fact, the naughtiest girl I have ever seen. Today, she teaches at an IIT! In yet another of the houses lived old Mr Bisht, a strict disciplinarian, who was feared by the entire family and also the neighbours as he had a gruff voice and a harsh manner of speaking. He was an intolerant man, specially towards children. We tried to stay away from him. His wife was a thin, meek woman who seemed to have withered due to the long years she had spent with him!
I have seen this lovely little lane change dramatically over the last 10 years. The old haveli (Shri Niwas) has vanished and in its place stand posh apartments. Old Mishraji’s houseAnurag has been brought down by his grandsons and brand new flats and a gym stand in the huge campus. Mishraji passed away long ago. He would have been shocked to see what happened to his house. Many trees have also been felled to make way for more buildings. The gardens have also disappeared from most of the houses. Some of the old families still stay there but their houses have also been rebuilt to match the changed surroundings.
I pass through this lane at least once a week. Almost everything has changed. But most of all what has changed is the pace of activity in the lane. In those days, it was a secluded area and hardly any vehicles moved through it. But now it is a posh area of a State Capital and a very happening place.
It has lost its tranquility, just like the valley has. It has lost the close relationships that existed among the families living there. People do not know who their neighbours are. The birdsong to which we awoke those days is now an impossibility. No longer do people talk to each other across the hedges. Actually, nobody has the time to do that any longer! Nor the inclination. The fairytale childhood we spent in the idyllic lane will stay in my memories always despite the fact that I have to see the changed face of the place often. Sometimes, I see some remnant of those days. A broken little gate, a bed of roses in some garden, a wildflower hedge which they forgot to cut down.