Cousins only

So we met. All of us cousins. 10 days back. After some hesitation about budgeting…some communication gaps in between, some reservations, some eagerness.

We wanted to meet anyways. At least for that one day in the whole year. Minus our parents who still squabble, while in their 50s. A four month old toothless wonder kept us company. Wonderboy. Bundle of joy. Cherubic smiles. His kisses meant opening his mouth wide into your cheeks. Real kisses. Free of inhibitions. Free of reservations.

We’re eight cousins. Three of us – married, and with kids. Am the next to be married. My cousins may call me a madcap when I keep going back in time to Chromepet. To my granny’s house. To the sideyard. To the custard apple tree. To the Mango trees. To the jackfruit tree in a corner. To grandpa’s wooden writing desk by the window in his room where he would hate to entertain family unless it meant business.

Ideally we should have been meeting there. But the ills of globalization sure caught up with granny’s home too. For several years, she lived alone there after grandpa’s death. For several years she survived on the pension she received in her husband’s name and managed the house, with some help from neighbours.

She braved the occasional stories of servants killing home-owners to scoot off with their loot, murders happening a few streets away, and most of all, hostility of some of her offspring.

Eight of them. Add the step-siblings, the uncles, aunts, visiting relatives who found her Chennai home a convenient stopover point. And that makes for a mela. Eight of them in different age groups – living in those many different directions. With differences and dislike that multiplied by that many times as years rolled by.

Then the house got broken into. When she was away. The home was obviously too good a bet for thieves in the garb of human beings, waiting for their prey. My heart skipped a beat to even think of what would have happened if this robbery happened when granny was around. Not sure if it was one guy or more people who broke into the house. Granny was no longer allowed to stay there after that. She’s never felt happy at a single home afterward.

Only three years back, she sold off her house to divide that money among the eight.

And we, chromepet cousins lost our meeting point among the many things that were given away from that home, to offspring, to friends of offspring…et al.

So we got around last year, after some deliberation, and blew up thousands for a day and half for a collective stay at a beach farmhouse off ECR, although the beach was about 5-10 mins away. Enough to cause heartburn among elders.

That was one of the most wonderful get-togethers we cousins had. Banter n games. Laughter n love. Kids n fun. Photo-sessions. Food.

This year’s was a more modest meet at a new papa’s home, although replete with chatter, even as the elders suppressed their vexation a little. Miracles happened. Call it luck. A couple of us who had other engagements got around to working them ahead or cancelling them. So not one of us was missing! A bundle of joy kept the women glued to him. As for guys, they were glued to ….sigh…cricket. Thankfully not for the whole day! Bad light!