Chacha Kresh + nostalgia (again)

When I was 12, chacha Kresh would sit his son Ashis, and me down on his couch and read us stories from the Reader's Digest. "It will help you improve your english" he kept saying. Now that I recall this fond memory of him, I also tell myself that maybe he was experimenting with us, maybe he perceived himself as a sort of teacher bestowed with the duty and responsibility of transmitting something valuable to the younger generation. It was nice to witness the passion burning inside of him and watch the gleam in his eyes. He loved all his children dearly and always made me feel that I was very much part of his tribe.

Chacha Kresh never recovered from the passing of Shalini, his daughter. She was in her early 40s and succumbed from brain tumor. That was it. That was the day the gleam in his eyes faded away, his mental health went into a slow decline and his unbearable suffering became so palpable that we could almost physically feel it.

Chachi Sona is a strong person. She stood by her husband, year after year, supporting him despite her own pain. It is no secret that women are stronger than men. Women tend to worry about all sorts of things but we, men, on the other hand have fears. It is an affliction which renders us even more vulnerable.

Ashis became a recluse and Poupoune, the youngest of the siblings never got married. It all sounds like a very sad story but actually it's the reality of so many families when the laughter inside the home suddenly stops for whichever reason and a heavy silence descends and fills the air.

Bidding farewell to chacha Kresh yesterday felt both strange and poignant for me, it was an experience marked again by both sadness and nostalgia. It was a moment that carried the weight of both cherished memories and the reality of separation. The last time I visited him was last year when I brought the family litchis from our garden. He reacted by smiling at me when I took his hands into mine. It was a moment charged with emotions. I expressed gratitude to him then for having me in his family as I was growing up and for the many stories he read to me. I don't know if he understood everything I was saying but I believe it was important to say it loud when he was still alive. It was my goodbye and blessing to him.

Chacha Kresh passed away the same day his daughter Shalini did, on the 29th of November. How more symbolic can this be? Farewells are a natural part of life, marking the ebb and flow of relationships and experiences. I am turning 51 today and I just feel another milestone has been reached in my journey of personal growth. 

Mamie Ruhee + nostalgia

Last Tuesday, we went to bid farewell to our beloved Mamie Ruhee, a woman of poise, class and character, surrounded all her life by wealth and comfort. Mamou Ram and Mamie took great pride in having all members of the family gathered around them at new year’s. They would throw those grandiose dinners where everyone would bond and Mamie would also ensure each nephew, niece or grand child goes back home with a little token. Later the same night, I would carefully place everything in my piggy bank knowing how helpful it would be during the course of the year. Those little acts of caring, we carry in our hearts forever and try to replicate later as we become adults.

Looking at her house in Port Louis brought warm thoughts and beautiful souvenirs to me. It's funny how nostalgia often paints the past with a rosy hue, emphasizing the positive aspects and filtering out the challenges and complexities.

The souvenir of that bygone era serves as a tangible trigger in the form of childhood laughter, fashion, food and even the scent of a particular place - in this very specific case, the smell of the small tv room where we were introduced to advanced technology in the form of a betamax vcr and watched Zeenat Aman taking revenge after getting molested in 'Insaf ka Tarazu' (for the molesting part, all children were ordered out of the room, to go and play in the compound where they would come up with their own little theories). Life seemed simpler, more innocent, or perhaps filled with a unique charm back then.

Nostalgia can be both comforting and bittersweet, offering a sense of continuity and connection to one's personal history, allowing us to revisit the joys and sentiments of the past and providing us with a source of solace in the face of life's uncertainties. Threats and danger seem almost unavoidable in this rapidly changing world and as such, the selective souvenirs of a bygone era become cherished tokens, preserving a sense of identity and belonging. Embracing nostalgia can be a way to celebrate the richness of our personal histories and find meaning in the passage of time, a reminder of where we've been, how far we've come and the lessons we've learned along the way. True, we choose to set aside the challenges of the past, we choose to gloss over the hardships we've faced and we prefer to stick to an idealized version of reality but it is not merely an indulgence in sentimentality. After all, what harm is there in simply wanting to cling to things which make us feel good? If we think about it, it might actually be the only life buoy that saves us from insanity in this mad world.

Farewell Devianee poupou (as my father would call her), thank you for bestowing us with many moments of happiness and for all the lessons you’ve taught us about giving and caring, they will always be remembered.