Sharad’s family and I arrived at the Sambhaji Nagar airport, where my Dad was waiting in the parking lot with a huge smile. Following our tradition, I bent down to touch Dad’s feet, seeking his blessings. Sharad and his family followed suit, paying their respects in a similar manner. We then all settled into the car.
As we drove to Vidyaniketan Colony, where our family home resides, I felt a rush of nostalgia. We've been living here for a very long time, and it later became one of the prime areas of what was once Aurangabad. Gajanan, affectionately known as Gaju, our 16-year-old helper and Aabhatai's son, came running towards us. He's been like a younger brother to me, growing up in our household under Aabhatai's care.
I smiled and ruffled Gaju's hair as he helped carry our luggage. Inside, the house was buzzing with wedding arrangements. Anita Badi Ma, my Uncle Suresh’s wife, emerged from the kitchen. We all went to her, touched her feet, and took her blessings. Although I call her Anita Badi Ma, I never felt comfortable calling Uncle Suresh as Bade Papa. Anita Ma smiled and hugged me, then, in a protective gesture, she moved her hands in a deliberate, rhythmic motion over my head, warding off any evil eyes and showering me with motherly love.
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"Aabhatai, come fast with the juice and Samosas for the children," B
adi Ma called out.
From the kitchen, Aabhatai's voice boomed, "I'm on my way, Anita Didi! Just frying some chillies in the kharai."
"Badi Ma," she responded, "Okay kids, freshen up and then come back to the hall to eat. Aabhatai, hurry up, the children are starving."
"Coming, Didi," Aabhatai replied cheerfully, "They are my children too. I won’t let them starve."
Sharad and I retreated to my room, while Akhila and Krishna were guided by Gaju to another room, leaving behind the friendly banter of Aabhatai and Badi Ma. Sharad and I took turns using the washroom and changed into comfortable house clothes – T-shirts and shorts. When we returned downstairs, we were greeted by the sight of Krishna playfully making Akhila Bhabhi chase him to get his T-shirt on, while my family laughed at Krishna's antics.
The house, alive with the aroma of Aabhatai’s cooking and the sound of laughter, felt like a true home. Surrounded by the joyous chaos of family, I felt a deep sense of belonging and anticipation for the days to come.