This post is an effort to document my 24 years spent in GNFC Township in Bharuch. It is also to record the changes that this place went through in my time. I was 3 years old when my parents arrived here along with my elder sister. I am 27 now, about to spend the last couple of days in this place, as my father is retiring.
I lived in 3 streets in this time period — Street No. 35 till I was in 3rd Standard, Street No. 19 till I was in my 2nd year of college and Street No. 7 till now.
For the longest time, my entire world was encapsulated in this township. I remember the first time I ventured out of township on my own, in 8th standard. It was raining very heavily, and my friend Bhavesh persuaded me to go on a ride through the rain, to another friend’s house just next to township. We ducked through the mandir gate, cycled through potholes that we couldn’t even see and reached our friend’s house but alas, his mother didn’t allow him to come down as it was raining. Bhavesh and I then came back and frolicked by sliding down the Mandir lawn as it rained.
I also remember the time when there was no “Navu shopping centre”. THere used to be a cycle puncture shop, Lalabhai ni dukaan, and a few other shops in the garden in front of the admin office. They broke it down and then made a new shopping center besides the older one. I remember its construction, seeing the new shops being opened and running through the central dome as it echoed.
There was a time when there were 2 paan na galla. One was Status(is still there) and another one was as a solitary cabin right in front of the new Lalabhai ni dukaan. Although the other shop was known more for renting pirated movie CDs and less for his paan. My 128 MB RAM computer was fed a very healthy dose of viruses because of those pirated CDs.
My time spent in Street No. 19 also coincided with the making of Street No.20. Previously, there used to be a dense jungle there, with a huge “Vad nu jhaad” and countless Badaam trees. It was a regular habit of ours to play cricket till 7 PM in the lawn next to our house, then spend time pelting stones at the badaam trees and then eating them while sitting in the park between Street No 19 and 36. I miss those days.
I also miss the corner most bench in that park, which is now broken. During Summers, Pappa and Mummy used to sit there after dinner and chat, while I used to play around in the park, usually till 10 PM.
Festivals were very special in the way they were celebrated here. Uttrayan meant going to the terrace(in the streets that have a terrace) and flying kites the entire day, taking a break for lunch when all the aunties of the building would do a pot-luck and bring different delicacies. A siesta would be followed, by sleeping in the shade on the terrace itself. Later on, we used to go to the Sports complex ground as there was no terrace in Street No. 7.
Holi and Dhuleti meant gathering at the Gas Godown ground(It’s called Gas Godown because there used to be a godown for cooking gas cylinders there. It moved next to Street No. 19 later on and now it doesn’t exist as all homes have a gas pipeline). As kids, it meant getting to play instead of study and run around the pyre. It also meant watching in awe as the ladies did the Puja around the pyre and then people going close to it to fetch nariyals. The joy of drinking that hot coconut water and chewing that sweet kopru is something that I still search for.
I’ll come to Navratri but before that would like to tell you about a celebration, that unfortunately is not conducted anymore. Republic Day used to be one of the days I used to look forward to the entire year, as it meant waking up early, going to the school parade and sitting there listening to boring speeches, but then running to the sports complex, standing besides Pappa and hearing the MD felicitate the employees. It was followed by tea and snacks, that I have a very fond memory of. All that still happens, but what doesn’t happen is the Fun Fair in the evening. The same gas godown ground used to become a Mela, with rides, shops and the biggest attraction of them all — the lottery! Everyone tried their luck by purchasing those tickets, and Pappa even got lucky once when we won a toaster in it!
And coming to the festival that defined this place — Navaratri. Yaar, I miss those days, when those 9 days meant doing nothing else. Just waiting for 6 PM to strike, running to the main ground to gather with friends and then, instead of doing Garba, go to the food stalls and sit around there. It was a time when kids whose parents worked in GNFC came in demand as everyone asked for passes. I am sure everyone who has attended even one Navratri here will have a personal memory of it. I have many, and many close ones.
Time is running out, and I have to run now. I know this place will go on without me. I’ll have to learn to grow up without it.
Leave a Reply