The house that made me
It was the beginning of December. My brother and I went to our old family house in the village. The family had agreed to renovate after a very long time.
We got to the house. I opened the door and as I stepped in, I got that feeling of nostalgia. We made a lot of memories in that house.
I remembered how I would run around the house with my brother. We were very energetic. It was fun. After running all around the house, and making our mother shout a lot, we would have our bath, eat and go to bed.
I walked into the sitting room and I saw the old, dusty sofa we used to have.
"Do you remember this sofa?" I asked my brother.
"Yes I do. How can I ever forget" he replied.
As kids we would jump on the sofa multiple times just for the fun of it. It was really fun to us back then but now, I wonder how we saw that as fun.
"After all the jumping we did on this sofa, it still didn't get bad. It's such a strong sofa" I said.
"Yes. They don't make them like this anymore. I'm sure this sofa would cost a crazy amount of money if it were to be on the market today" my brother replied.
"You're absolutely right" I concurred.
I took a look at the walls. There were family pictures hanging all around. It was fascinating to see how much I had changed in physical appearance. I remember when the camera man came to the house on one occasion to take a photo of the family. It took a lot for my parents to get me and my brother to stay at a place just for the picture to be taken.
As I looked more at the wall, I saw drawings I made on the wall years ago. I was just in my drawing phase at that time. I never knew what came over me, but one day, I drew something on the wall. I remember how furious my dad was at me. So much so that he punished me for a week.
The dining still looked the same. It was where we had most of our meals. Dinner time was always bonding time for us, but then, there were days it would become dreadful because that was when my dad would ask about our homework and things we were taught at school.
Whenever we didn't answer questions regarding our academics correctly, we knew we were in for some punishment.
My brother and I stepped outside to take a look at the farm. A lot of trees have grown so tall now. I saw my favourite old mango tree.
Back in the day, my brother and I would take our time to pluck some mangoes from the tree. If the mango was too high up the tree, we would throw stones at it or use a long stick to bring it down. The mangoes from the particular tree were the sweetest. So much so that neighbours would come pleading for some mangoes.
On the other end of the farm stood the old avocado tree. I never really liked avocados but they were my father's favourite, so my brother and I usually plucked them just for my dad.
"This once beautiful farm has been overtaken by weed" I said to my brother
"I remember how much time Dad would spend here. He loved this farm so much" my brother replied.
"Yes he did. Now I realize why he spent so much time on this farm. Apart from the fact that farming was his hobby, a good percentage of our food came from this farm" I said.
"Yes. I remember. To a large extent, this farm was our livelihood" he replied.
That was the house that made me. It made up my childhood. It held memories that would forever be dear to me. There were a lot of good days and even bad days in that house. Nobody stayed in the house anymore. We had moved and built elsewhere. The house stayed there empty and unoccupied.
We didn't want to sell because of how much history it held. The land was big. The farm could still be useful. So we decided that it would be better to just renovate the house.
Before leaving, I took one last look at the house. I had a good run down memory lane. The vicinity and neighbours had changed a lot. I decided that it was about time the house was put to use.