North, South, East, or West, Home is where you get the best

At long last, I’m going to take you into my “Home, sweet Home”. Erehwon is at least 120 years old this year and she is still going strong. The first sale deed for the property bears the date 1905. The first owner was, most probably, a Britisher who, for want of funds to pay her milk dues, sold the place to the vendor. That guy was, again probably, overawed by the size of the house, and when the opportune time came along, he sold it for a princely sum. The new owners were Anglo-Indian; when they heeded the call from Down Under, they sold it to another Anglo-Indian, this time a Railwayman. When the new owner decided to follow the Anglo-Indian trail (again to Australia), I came into the picture. This was in the year 1986. Money was tight, especially for an ordinary college teacher like me, but Veteran Lines had already mesmerized me and there was no way that I was going to let go a slice of heaven.

I’m sure all the planets were perfectly aligned for me to make this deal. I had a wife and 2 sons and nothing much else. Fortunately, the missus, who was a Central Government officer at the time, was given a citation and a monetary award for booking a case against one of the bigger industrial houses that she was in charge of. The money was used as a down-payment and for almost a year after that I struggled to raise the sum needed to finish the deal. In the middle 1980s, very few financial companies gave you loans—even for a measly I lakh—and the interest rates were close to 15%. We finally secured the loan, completed the transaction and became proud owners of what is now called EREHWON. It’s coming on to almost 40 years now and, if you take my word for it, heaven doesn’t change at all, except for the frills.

How many of us can honestly say that we have our own personal heaven? We have been blessed, truly blessed.

Before you enter, you may have to encounter some art objects on and near the walls. On a little ledge on the right outer wall are 2 snakes (in wood) crafted by me. Below them is a smiling Buddha (in red), in front of a money-plant in a sawed-off whisky bottle. On the ledge on the left wall is a centipede, 2 Pallikaranai-marsh-land water-birds and a crippled horse in black and white. Below this menagerie is The Hand, unique because it has 6 digits—this item came originally from a piece of wood from our sappadilla tree (or “sappota”, as it is commonly called) which was uprooted in a storm.

The mesh door in front of you ensures that the bungalow is almost mosquito-proof, and is further padded to keep the AC going smoothly inside. Open the door and a picture of the Christ adorns the facing wall—I suppose a must for every Christian household. Look to your right, and on the pillar there you will see a photograph of an officer and a gentleman—the officer being my “missus” in full uniform, receiving an award from the gentleman—a former Finance Minister and (later) Prime Minister of our great land—yes, yes, the inimitable VP Singh. The leading window is graced with a painting of some modern-era hero, this painting done by my first grandson. The window itself is cluttered with my art work—all fabricated using scrap. That is why some people say that all my stuff is actually “crap art”. I must accept graciously that everyone is entitled to his/her opinion.

Looking further right, you will notice a very modest TV, but at the side of it and below it is my music system. I know that Anglo-Indians love their music and I have a lot of stuff—vinyl LPs, CDs, cassette tapes, DVDs—the works. The beauty of it all is that I can play everything on my gadgets and that is what I do whenever the TV does not offer the best entertainment.

The left side of the room is occupied by some fairly comfortable furniture pieces and when they fail to satisfy, I can always pull up my easy-chair. On the left there are shelves that are choc-a-bloc with souvenirs from far and near, but my book-case takes pride of place in the left corner where it stands. More than one shelf is filled with books on my favourite subject—the Anglo-Indian—including my PhD dissertation, which I turned into a book called Black and White, published in London and in the USA. If you need a ready-reckoner on the Anglo-Indian (as a subject for study), then my little corner will at least get you started.

Above the book-case are some ancient artifacts salvaged and restored by me. The truth is that I like everything old and that includes people, too. I am fascinated by crooked, toothy, quizzical, out-of-the-blue, smiles—especially from older people—and I always try to give them one in return. Is it because it is so much easier to please an elder—the crochety ones prove the rule—your guess is as good as mine, dear Reader.

I’ll sign off here and take you deeper into our den when I come back to you next week. Until then, take care. And don’t forget to keep reading.