Spice of Life | Basking in the glory of warm memories

They brought certain realisations: To look for the little things in everyday life to be grateful for, to not fast forward through life but to pause, breathe, and take in each moment, and finally to appreciate the gift of being alive.

On a recent Monday afternoon, as I took a breather from replying to the trail of emails crowding my inbox after a long weekend, I happened to look out of the window through the wooden blinds behind the desk. There on the sprawling lawns lined with palm trees, lay half the workforce from the shop floor of my factory.

As years rolled by and I had a son, I continued this tradition. The charpoy was replaced with picnic mats and the pickle with beetroot and cucumber salad. Since my offspring refused to lie down or sit still, we played games like blocks, snakes and ladders, chess, and football. (Shutterstock)

I was caught a little off guard as I was habitual of seeing that space vacant due to the harsh weather. But it soon dawned on me that it was lunch hour and instead of browsing through their phones or sitting idly indoors, they had chosen to spend their break outdoors, basking in the glory of the winter sun. Some lay chitchatting with colleagues, others were listening to songs or eating home-packed food, while still others walked barefoot on the carpet-like grass.

This scene transported me back to my school days when I used to rush home after the finishing bell in winter. Back in the day, I was habitual of walking to school as it was close to my house. My mother and grandmother used to invariably welcome me and my brother in the garden outside the house where they sat on a charpoy, peeling pea pods or cutting vegetables awaiting our arrival. The warmth of their greeting along with the crisp sunlit afternoon, fresh carrot juice with seasonal homemade carrot pickle was the highlight of our day. It was the time when I would rest my head in my grandmother’s lap as she gently stroked my hair, washing away the worries of the hectic schooldays.

As years rolled by and I had a son, I continued this tradition. The charpoy was replaced with picnic mats and the pickle with beetroot and cucumber salad. Since my offspring refused to lie down or sit still, we played games like blocks, snakes and ladders, chess, and football. But the emotions of love and bonding that those sunny afternoons brought along remained the same as if preserved in a time capsule.

So, as I witnessed a similar scenario from the office window the other day, age-old memories that were locked up somewhere, rushed back and brought with them a warm fuzzy feeling. My late grandmother’s role in shaping my values, my mother’s selfless love which I had unknowingly passed on to my son, and my gratitude for having spent those carefree afternoons with my child.

The treasure trove of remembrances energised me and helped me power through the rest of the day. They also brought certain realisations: To look for the little things in everyday life to be grateful for, to not fast forward through life but to pause, breathe, and take in each moment, and finally to appreciate the gift of being alive.

As American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “You don’t really live until you learn to stop and smell the roses.”

The writer is a Ludhiana-based freelance contributor and can be reached at ashmeg20@gmail.com.