Deconstructing a home - Part 1

Moving a home is a nightmarish experience. But it is also an inevitable occurrence in the life of an individual. Hence, I guess it had to happen in mine. The first time we moved was two and half years back, after staying in one house for twenty three years. That was hard. Very hard. Because other than the fact that twenty three years of staying put in one place allowed my family to pile up a lot (a very huge lot too) of `stuff' (everything from a collection of Campa Cola bottle caps to an assorted set of sewing machine needles), it also allowed us to breathe life into every brick of that building. That was house where I was born and raised into my present (very confused) self, so you can guess why it was heart wrenching to let go. But we just had to move to a new house, and I lived through the change, somehow.

Life got messed up for a few days in our new house, but soon it found its rigmarole equilibrium where it has stayed for the past two and a half years. Ah! But change, you see, is forever. Or said less dramatically, things always change. So, the breaking news at this hour is that my home is changing again. For several days now, I have been packing books, clothes, books, my toy car collection, books, utensils, books, the television, books, the music system, books... You get the general idea. My house has been getting stacked up, from the floor to the roof, with rows upon rows of very-boring-looking brown cardboard boxes, all tightly sealed with equally boring-but-sturdy-looking tape.

A bright Saturday morning, this weekend, heralded the beginning of the first war. The truck with the movers arrived at 5:15 am. Since trucks are not allowed to ply inside Delhi city limits from 8am to 11 am, `Operation MoveTreeHouse' had to be timed to perfection. The movers got on the job promptly, and out went the sofa, an assortment of cushions, a pastis of cardboard boxes, a medley of book shelves, one humongous divan and my dear bed. Various mattresses, pillows, bed sheets were rolled together into being strange bedfellows. The movers were a set of four marvelous chaps, who managed to get all this done within an hour.

I rode inside the truck, with the movers, all the while praying that they do not get fined for trying to win a formula one grand prix on the Delhi Ring Road. Another hour saw us standing in front of our new house. This one happens to be more near the roof of the building than the ground, so moving all the stuff upstairs was going to be tedious. But when god calls somebody nearer (about four floors nearer to be exact), he sends his angels to help you on the way! Those movers were either a divine gift, or androids from the 24th century. If ever I saw the tenacity of human spirit triumph over gravity it was then. They moved every single bit of load, up, to the house, almost without a single scratch. Ecstatic and I guess, more relieved than anything else, Dad gave those movers a few hundred bucks more, over and above their due charges. With everybody happy and content (and that's really rare), we were back home (err... Which home is this now? This is getting confusing) by 9 am.

Ok! So I moved my home, but then why is this part one? Because that was only half of the stuff moved from the old (albeit current) home, and none of the stuff placed properly in-place in the new one. Somebody dropped in, after we came back, to illuminate us on the hazards of moving a refrigerator incorrectly. Apparently, if you tilt it more than 45 degrees to either side, the compressor oil overflows (or something like it) and ruins it ! Based on this and other sundry pieces of information, I anticipate there is going to me enough masala for part two. And since I am too tired to even talk about rest of the weekend, I'll call it a day for today.