The Lady Who Made Rangolis

- Memoirs of a strangers 

Neighbours; its a word that some get very lucky with. But for others, it may not be so. When I used to stay in Mumbai, I had, what I considered, the best neighbours. People who knew each other and were a part of each other’s lives. However, when I shifted to Pune, that notion changed completely. Other than the usual hellos when you are taking the elevator, nothing much. The warmth of interaction somewhere gave way to the efficiency of aloofness. Though we tried our best but eventually we let it be. We recently shifted houses and here also we found the same way. Of course, we need to make concessions for  the covid times and that people don’t want to really mix around, but a smile from your eyes or just a return of greetings?

It is not that everyone is like that, but I suppose a rare spine of the dice has me  come across people who seemed rude. (I can be wrong but when you greet A  PERSON GOOD MORNING AND GET A Grunt in reply. What would you say) Over the years staying here we figured that people didn’t really like being too friendly, and that differed from people to people? The neighbours staying right opposite us fit that bill. The first and the only thing I knew about them was that every day there would be a new rangoli in front of their doors. I have to say, it was beautiful and I really do appreciate the effort of doing this every day. One day I saw her making it, I initiated a conversation wishing her good morning and telling her how beautiful her art is. Got a cold response of a good morning and thank you. Post that whenever we saw each other it was always like that, I eventually let it be. But I did appreciate her discipline as I am currently trying very hard to stay on a plan and be disciplined and I know how tough it is to follow a routine. 

Recently they shifted out. Now whenever I open my doors, I don’t see that beautiful white powder designs which I got used to seeing. Honestly, I miss that. Weirdly, I miss that neighbour whom I really never spoke to.  Does make me think if I should have tried harder. Its interesting how a small thing associated with someone can become a memoir…