What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
A good life is a collection of happy memories.
Denis Waitley
Summer vacations in my hometown in the late 1980s and the early 1990s were filled with memories of frequent power cuts. We used to spend as much of the daylight as we could playing, and when it got too dark to see clearly, we used to get back home. Sitting around a candle in the dark, or sitting outside our homes waiting for the power to turn back on we whiled away the time playing cards, or singing songs, playing antakshari, or just talking and sharing stories and experiences in the dark. Typically this would start with just us, and eventually, the neighbors would join in and we would spend this time bonding.
As I remember it, we used to have power cuts throughout the year, but the only time it affected us was in March, April, and May – ie during our exams in March, when we required the power in the evenings, to study for the following day and April and May when we would be sitting idle at home and would have enjoyed watching TV or listening to the radio. Again, the power cuts wouldn’t matter if it was scheduled during the day when there was daylight and we could continue with our lives, but typically power cuts were scheduled in the early evenings between 6 pm and 9 pm. Peak family time, but Dad and Mum never let it stop us. We finished many meals in candlelight, tons of homework, project work, and studies as well but Dad also ensured we spent a lot of this time just sitting around singing songs or playing cards.
Mum used to ensure we kept things neat and would make me put our toys away, where they belonged. The only things we always kept accessible were the candles, matches, and the pack of shuffled playing cards. The power cuts were always very prompt, even if the switching on wasn’t, but while playing games and singing songs we never complained about it. Listening to Radio Ceylon playing Hindi songs from the 50s through to the late 70s, I had a repertoire of songs most people on my street had not even heard. So Antakshari was one of my favorite games because no matter what permutation or combination we played this game in, my family won the game. We always played as one team and the street could divide itself into multiple teams or remain as one team, it never mattered to us. We never ran out of songs. Antakshari with my family was never boring and never got over, it always lasted longer than the 2-hour scheduled power cuts.
As much as I wished it, not everyone was free every evening to join us for a game of antakshari or to play cards. Most often, it would just be the six of us sitting around whiling away our time, sometimes the entire neighborhood would be parked at our home singing songs loudly and occasionally Mum would bring out some fried snacks she made fresh and join us in the fun and games. Dad had taught us all to play cards and usually it would just be us playing cards, so the shuffled three packs were sufficient. There were evenings when the slightly older kids on the street would drop in and Dad would indulge them with a game of cards and on those evenings, the entertainment was restricted to the adults. Card games were usually slow, and got boring very fast, so I used to avoid asking to play cards. I preferred singing because it was loud, it was fun and we never lost. Everyone always left the singing evenings feeling like they had lost to worthy opponents and that always made me feel like as a family we could do anything.
I remember the last weekend of summer vacations that year when Mum and Dad had friends over for a meal, and Mum had prepared Biryani at home. As a vegetarian, having Mum make Chicken Biryani at home was a treat and an awareness that things were slowly changing at home. Mum never bothered with making the dish or any other nonvegetarian dish at home, but she never stopped us from learning. That evening, we enjoyed a round of singing with the guests joining in when the power shut down and all of us were treated to a special but impromptu candlelight dinner at home. Sunday evenings were scheduled early bedtimes because of Monday school, and this was the start of the new academic year. Usually Mum would insist we sleep in the other room, but that evening I remember falling asleep sitting behind my siblings, right there, in the middle of it all. That feeling of comfort, the sense that everything is right with the world ensured that I remember this meal.
Today, many years later, when I think about the things needed for a good life, I look back on the life I’ve lived and the experiences I’ve had over the years. The family I call my own, those dark evenings singing songs or playing cards, random neighbors dropping in to enjoy the camaraderie, friends dropping in and Mum making an exception, that feeling of safety, the warm hug of the candlelight highlighting everything that is dear to me, surrounding us in an ethereal glow and now the fireplace that replaced the candles, the people around it a few years older- hopefully a lot wiser, children still waiting for something fun to start, cards sitting ready to kick off the game, dogs lolling on the side eager for a cuddle, everyone talking, sharing stories and experiences, laughing at jokes, just sitting absorbing it all together. This is the good life. This is the home I anticipate visiting every year forever grateful for the opportunity to have participated in it all.
Just a little more 