Even though my father settled in the small hill station called Abbottabad a place 70 miles from the twin cities of Rawalpindi and Islamabad, I still feel that I am searching for a home.
Home is where the heart is' someone said, Abbottabad seems empty as both my parents have passed away.The same home feels like a house. Its my sisters house now.
Many things have changed , the dining room has lost the sweet special aroma of Mothers cooking, the traditional layout on the table the table cloth material , the crockery- all are new.
Only The lone 'samawaar' a tea making Kashmiri utensil stands rooted on the mantlepiece and reminds me of the good old days.
My mother's favourite 'Firescreen' is now a framed painting on the wall as the fireplace is replaced by the gas heater. The wooden frame of the screen is lying abandoned in the garage, waiting to be polished if need be.
No one has the time I guess, newage , new frames , new contraptions, new distractions have erased the beauty of the loving comfortable homely traditions of the 1950s.I think its the time we live with our parents that makes a home so rare.The memories that make it so unforgettable.
Technology today, is creating better communications but are we losing the real togetherness in life? or is it my feeling only?
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Comments: 5
its a universal feeling...........
Today if you go to old city, you will again getting fascinated by things and want to know about all this and to communicate with old people. Though there is gap between our generations and it is getting increase by day to day. I still remember the old days that i have spent with my grandparents in old walled city house.
We all have to work to preserve our values in the age of technology and modernize our old things to catch-up with technology.