As the cartons unpacked and contents started tumbling out, one after the other, a sense of hollowness mixed with anticipation engulfed me. The life I had left behind had not left me yet. The remnants of life in the busy city of Delhi lay in heaps on the floor. I took a look at the empty house. It seemed to give out mixed vibes. Overwhelming yet inviting. Cold, yet longing for a touch of warmth. Spacious, yet small.
Almost gloomy but almost happy..Among many battles that awaited, was the one I had fought many times over and overcame with varying degrees of success; hiring house-staff! With Laila didi, the woman Friday in our city apartment, getting jitters and backing out at the eleventh hour, I had to resign myself to domesticity for the next few days. It was one such domestic day that set the base for the new venture.
The move to the hills of Dehradun had long been in the offing. The pollution had begun to choke Meera’s breath and my creativity. Finally the day had come when the “Plan” manifested into “Reality” and I found myself standing in this vacant house I had fallen in love with in pictures but the reality of it hit me hard. As the initial euphoria of ‘new’ melted into anxiety of the ‘unknown’, doubts started floating in the head; “Did I do the right thing?”, “Will it be worth it?”, “Will this ever be “home”?”..
Days started flying fast. Cartons had emptied and the belongings accomplished their task of making the “house”, our “home”. As it turned out, the house had more windows than we expected. A sheet of white fabric was pulled over the rod to shield the inside world from outside world. The blank canvas seemed to beckon me to play around. New artisans were being tested for their skills to find a spot at NOMAD DD unit. Some fabric flowers, the outcome of their showcase, were resting in a drawer.
The vivid flowers, apart from being signature NOMAD print, were also the result of my first impressions of the valley.
To be continued..