I was brought up in a close knit society. One couldn't walk 2 minutes in the colony without stopping to meet or greet somebody. Everyone was from the same religion, everyone spoke the same language.
And then I got married.
Having spent all my life cocooned in my comfort zone, my marriage to someone from another religion, another region and a totally different culture led to many new and interesting scenarios. For the first time in my life I was living on my own in a different city surrounded by different people. For the first few years, I lived in a rented flat with my husband. Basking in the bliss of being newly married, those 4 years, we did not know the names or faces of our neighbours, nor did we bother to find out. At times smiles were passed in the elevator, confused recognitions in the marketplace or curious glances towards other balconies on spotting some sort of movement. It did not take me long to forget the pleasures of living in a joint family, in a tight knit locality where everybody knows everything about everyone. We were too involved in ourselves, our work and our friends to give much thought to our neighbours and we thought it was for the best. It was a rented property, people came and went and we had to move someday too, right? So why go through all the trouble?
And then we shifted to to our house. Everyone said we are shifting in the middle of a jungle. So far from the main city, so far from civilization. But we were keen to give up rented accommodations to enjoy our house. The first couple of months were quiet. We were busy settling in, juggling work with home. And then the absence of malls, markets, cinemas settled in. How much time can one spend alone reading books, watching TV, surfing the internet? After all man is a social animal.
Our new neighbours came to our rescue. Having lost touch of neighbourly niceties, it took us a while to understand and adapt to invitations to tea and lunches. We were pleasantly shocked by our neighbours' interest in our interests and we learned to reciprocate as well. We now have sweet aunties who remind us of our mothers, cool aunties who give hep advice on everything (try cumin tea for weight loss, bake fox nuts in the microwave, must try the FabIndia in Logix mall for their home and kurti collection) and new friends quite like us as our neighbours. These strangers entered our lives and let us enter theirs through exchange of dishes and advice on which car to buy. I'm deepky touched and left at a loss of words when someone sends over a delicious dish of suji halwa celebrating the Mister's win at an award function or when someone remembers that kadhi pakora and chhola bhatura are our favourites and sends yummy stuff over or invites us for meals. We are still learning to share our lives with them. Unlike the neighbourhood of my childhood, we call first instead of visiting unannounced, there is still a little formality left. But I am getting used to seeing an assortment of plates and bowls from other households in my kitchen. And it has just been one year and already this jungle far from civilization seems like home. We have an entire lifetime to get to know each other better.
Cheers to the new neighbourhood!
