JOIN USBed and breakfast, Desi style
In the pre-handset era until the 1960s, relatives, near and distant, did not hesitate to visit each other’s homes without seeking confirmation from the host or even informing them. In my teen years in the 1960s, I distinctly remember our Delhi-based home having a constant stream of guests (read: relatives). They took for granted, and rightfully so, a lien of sorts at any relative’s home, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
We, like most during that era, liberally extended hospitality to visitors, and our home served several purposes for visitors living away.
The arrival of guests at home was always a pleasure for me on multiple counts. They usually came with sweets or other delicacies that I relished the most among others in the family. Second, we could partake of the special meals prepared for them. Third, their presence meant unspoken leniency, if not the revocation of numerous restrictions my strict disciplinarian father had laid. Fourthly, depending on the relationship, some of them would thrust a rupee or two into our hands before leaving.
Guests were always welcome in our home, a family trait I gladly continue to carry on till the late sixties now. Then, we had bright chances of outings: visit or revisit places of interest, movies, markets, or parks as a companion familiar with the city, if not as a guide. It was indeed a period of festivities.
More exhilarating was the surprise arrival of relatives from other cities or the countryside, often with a bed roll and metallic trunk.
After dinner, it was customary for families to share anecdotes and discuss issues of mutual interest, which made it a great story session for youngsters.
Needless to say, local sight-seeing trips were made more interesting as the guests pampered us with treats, toys, or clothes, which were rare and not liberally encouraged in our middle-class family. Little did we realise then that their extraneous generosity could be more of a way to compensate us for their stay. An increased frequency of visitors or their longer stays meant more niceties, fun, and frolic for us.
It was not always rosy, as a category of guests were in Delhi and our home for job interviews or medical treatment. Being an older brother, I gladly volunteered for hospital duty. In the process, I learned my way through various hospitals. In one such case, while serving a patient closely who was later diagnosed with TB, I also contracted the disease. On occasion, I missed my studies
but compensated for it later by working doubly hard.
Things have changed greatly. I can’t visit my relatives on a whim now. There is much planning and permissions involved. When I wish to visit a relative, I let my wife do the formalities because I am afraid the response, “We have already fixed a programme today,” will impinge on my ageing psyche.