<p>The world today is shrinking – and family sizes are too. It’s now the era of not just nuclear families — single-child or no-child families are quite the norm. Gone are the days of large families with many children – six to eight, at least – or joint families. Even if they stayed separately, get-togethers were more regular at functions, festive occasions and summer vacations. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Visiting my maternal grandparents’ home in Bengaluru was an annual and much-awaited summer vacation. Right from booking the train tickets to buying all the goodies and gifts to be carried from Mumbai, the excitement was palpable. The train journey was an adventure in itself, as a change had to be made either at Guntakal or Miraj (the direct Udyan Express had not yet started). </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, the most exciting moments were those spent with cousins and young uncles and aunts. Riding the toy train at Bal Bhavan in Cubbon Park and watching cartoon films in the mini-theatre were regular weekend outings. Picnics to Lalbagh, climbing trees and plucking fruits, racing up the hill and feeding groundnuts to the deer in the enclosure were some of the most enjoyable and memorable activities. </p>.<p class="bodytext">How we vied with each other, showing off our baby muscles while trying to row the boats at Ulsoor Lake, had the adults in splits – our tiny arms could barely hold the heavy oars, and the boat just drifted or spun around until an adult took charge and the race continued. A picnic to Nandi Hills in 3-4 Fiat cars was a regular event during our visit, and the race to the top was more exciting with all our shouts and screams of encouragement. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The home was abuzz with activity too — hopscotch, carrom, cards, Ludo, Monopoly, housie, table tennis, badminton, lagori (seven tiles), hide & seek, skipping and so many other games to engage us all through the day--and even late into the nights. There was no TV back then, and yet we felt the days were too short. These games kept us engaged and built strong bonds. </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, as we all grew older, the visits discontinued, with everyone settling into their careers and other responsibilities. Although we kept in touch through messages, meetings became few and far between, with only one or two at a time. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Recently, at a cousin’s wedding in Bengaluru, the lost camaraderie was revived. Everyone had descended on Bengaluru to attend the grand event -- some even from overseas. As soon as we all met, the bond of the moments spent together as children was reignited, and the memories came flooding back. The excitement, happiness and love were visible in our shared moments and laughter. Even the photos reflected them all! </p>.<p class="bodytext">Nearly a month later, when I revisit the photos, I experience a tinge of sadness for those who are missing out on these experiences. I’m glad I was born in the 1960s. </p>
<p>The world today is shrinking – and family sizes are too. It’s now the era of not just nuclear families — single-child or no-child families are quite the norm. Gone are the days of large families with many children – six to eight, at least – or joint families. Even if they stayed separately, get-togethers were more regular at functions, festive occasions and summer vacations. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Visiting my maternal grandparents’ home in Bengaluru was an annual and much-awaited summer vacation. Right from booking the train tickets to buying all the goodies and gifts to be carried from Mumbai, the excitement was palpable. The train journey was an adventure in itself, as a change had to be made either at Guntakal or Miraj (the direct Udyan Express had not yet started). </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, the most exciting moments were those spent with cousins and young uncles and aunts. Riding the toy train at Bal Bhavan in Cubbon Park and watching cartoon films in the mini-theatre were regular weekend outings. Picnics to Lalbagh, climbing trees and plucking fruits, racing up the hill and feeding groundnuts to the deer in the enclosure were some of the most enjoyable and memorable activities. </p>.<p class="bodytext">How we vied with each other, showing off our baby muscles while trying to row the boats at Ulsoor Lake, had the adults in splits – our tiny arms could barely hold the heavy oars, and the boat just drifted or spun around until an adult took charge and the race continued. A picnic to Nandi Hills in 3-4 Fiat cars was a regular event during our visit, and the race to the top was more exciting with all our shouts and screams of encouragement. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The home was abuzz with activity too — hopscotch, carrom, cards, Ludo, Monopoly, housie, table tennis, badminton, lagori (seven tiles), hide & seek, skipping and so many other games to engage us all through the day--and even late into the nights. There was no TV back then, and yet we felt the days were too short. These games kept us engaged and built strong bonds. </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, as we all grew older, the visits discontinued, with everyone settling into their careers and other responsibilities. Although we kept in touch through messages, meetings became few and far between, with only one or two at a time. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Recently, at a cousin’s wedding in Bengaluru, the lost camaraderie was revived. Everyone had descended on Bengaluru to attend the grand event -- some even from overseas. As soon as we all met, the bond of the moments spent together as children was reignited, and the memories came flooding back. The excitement, happiness and love were visible in our shared moments and laughter. Even the photos reflected them all! </p>.<p class="bodytext">Nearly a month later, when I revisit the photos, I experience a tinge of sadness for those who are missing out on these experiences. I’m glad I was born in the 1960s. </p>
