Embrace the chaos that makes house a home
What I miss the most about childhood is the happy chaos of our home full of cousins.
Our pyjama parties were a delightful ritual and we enjoyed them all through our teens. We would stay awake at night, playing, chatting and munching on all that we could find in the fridge. Once, we were all made to get up in the morning and clean the mess in the kitchen. Another time, while playing Dark Room, we hung bedsheets pulled out from cupboards and threw cushions and pillows to scare one another. We got the younger cousins to drag the laundry baskets and hide them under the bed. If only those moments of us in our hiding haunts could be filmed!
Staying together used to be occasions of blissful togetherness. We screamed and fought but just as our mothers would enter the room, we would put up a united front and innocently protect one another as if nothing had happened. They would ask us to sit separately and give us warning glances before leaving. Within seconds, we were back to our original state.
Our books would be scattered everywhere and we would use boxes as makeshift tables to play carrom and ludo. Our room would look as though a whirlwind had just come and gone. There was clutter everywhere when we finished playing. The good part was that our mothers didn’t mind the chaos as it kept us happily busy. They believed that a chaos-free home with kids was an oxymoron. The tagline of an advertisement of a detergent comes to my mind: Daag ache hain (Stains are good).
By evening, things were back in order and we were given grades for our effort to keep the room spic and span. The home of our grandparents was restored to being moderately organised and livable, where one could walk around without stumbling or tripping over a toy on the floor.
I have only fond memories of those wonder years. Nobody shouted or scolded us children for being ourselves. When I observe mothers today, I find they go over the top if their children make a mess. They have been used to having a home overtly neat and clean, forgetting that it’s the children’s mess that makes a house a home. It’s the mess that parents miss the most when their children leave home to start a life of their own.
I get emotional recalling the time when my son would ride his tricycle inside the house, leaving muddy tracks on the floor. My childhood memories and those of my son often make me nostalgic. True, children need to be taught to put things back in order after playing, and my son happens to be a cleanliness freak today, but I miss the chaos and adventure we had growing up. I re-lived many of my childhood moments with my son.
I wish young professionals caught in corporate careers today take the time out to revel in the happy chaos of togetherness at home. Being together in chaos is a blessing rather than coming home to the most organised house in the world. Let’s embrace the chaos happily and be a part of the fun for you’re never too old for pyjama parties.
IT’S THE MESS THAT PARENTS MISS THE MOST WHEN CHILDREN LEAVE HOME TO START A LIFE OF THEIR OWN