In 1947, my grandparents bought their first home after partition. My father, uncles and aunts (aka Buas) were born and raised there. So was I and every single one of my siblings/cousins.
Around the year 2000, both my uncles vacated their parts of the house.
Ten years ago, in 2016, my parents also moved out from that house to the new one they currently live in. Yet they decided to keep the old one, for the memories.
But life has a way of serving you surprises when we least expect it.
Around the pandemic, our business suffered a bit to an extent that my father was finding it difficult to pay the EMIs. I was also going through a career change and was in a similar situation. Now the situation is very different for both of us, but it wasn’t the case in 2020-21.
My father eventually decided to sell off the old home, pay off the loan of the new home, and not worry about EMIs every month. We did exactly that. For the first few months, he was trodden with guilt and helplessness. He unfortunately thought he could not even save a home.
Over time, I think he sort of moved on. My mom kept nudging him that no house was worth trading for his peace of mind and mental and physical health. To me it is the boldest thing my father has done ever.
I can say he moved on because some two years ago he sat all of us sisters down and told his life regrets. Notwithstanding what he said, I am glad the house was not one of them. I would like to hope so at least.
The reason I am sharing this with you is that sometimes we are all stuck to our childhood way too much. In a way we do not even realise. Truth be told, it still blows my mind away that till date whenever I have dreams that have my family, they are always in that old house and never in the “new” one which is a decade old now.
I see so many people stuck to some part of their childhood things, pieces of past that aren’t pristine anymore, and even houses that are homes long gone.
At some point, it all makes sense to move on. At least from things we have zero control over. My father still is filled with lores of how things used to be when his parents were around. And that’s fine too. It’s a part of him. Yet he is someone who is always planning for the future, making things happen, giving us advices which he wish he had.
This is the picture of the ruins of the house that used to be our home, after it was sold. I haven’t shown it to anyone in my family ever (the irony of posting it on social media is not lost on me lol).
But we are so much beyond and better than the things we owned, the things we had and the things we could be.
Once we know that, we create a version we could have been but never were. It is all in our choice, in our agency, of what we pick from the past and use it in our present to enslave our future or to enlarge it.
Most of us have to make that choice every single day.
