invite to a family function

I had been invited to the 'aayushhomam' function of a relative. Nothing unusual in that. But then i was meeting a hoarde of relatives after a very long time. Also, this family has been generally out of touch with the rest of the family branch. They were now reaching out, as their small granddaughter all of 8 years old, was particularly asking to meet all those relatives with whom grandma seems to have had such good time. You know now, how the kiddoo has been spending her time with grandma! They have a voracious appetitie for 'old stories'and i can quite imagine the elder relative slipping into the joys of her youth.So the NRI kid wanted all the fun of meeting these characters in flesh and blood and this function was got up for that purpose.

I remember my aunts regaling us with their stories of childhood at Mysore; Ontikoppal to be more exact. Yes, their childhood was full of fun and frolic in the railway quarters there. There were repeated reference to Kala and Bora, the two servants.All of us know that railway officials have this non monetary perquisitive.They used to heat up hot water for them, in the geyser-less days, it must have been quite welcome, more so in a place like Mysore. They used to accompany them to nearby places and were always around. They remember the rose plants which used to be in full bloom, kitchen garden and its produce; the dussera celebrations and the 'stick man walking on stilts' which used to scare them no end; how their father used to dress up for attending the 'darbar' function;their grandfather who used to decorate the kolu and get it set up, starting atleast a month in advance of the festival; their journeys in the train to arisikere, maddur , harihar and the thrill of being waited upon by railway staff at these stations and the eatables that they used to bring to them; their school which was bang oppositite their house and their grandfather used to come to the school to give them 'prasad' of milk as soon as he finished his pooja, much to the chagrain of my aunts; how they used to find comfort and warmth in his blanket in the winter evenings, when he used to hold them close, and recite slokas and songs; the temple nearby and the road to chamundi hill.

All their nostalgia, fed into my nostalgia for the times when i used to enjoy their stories, wide eyed and extremely captivated. So much so, recently when i had been to Mysore, I made it to Ontikoppal and looked at the railway quarters there. Spotted the school, and was looking at the few houses bang opposite. My dad and uncle, hand in hand in oversized trousers and my aunts in pigtails and flowing skirts flitted across.Slice of life!