<p>Back in the early seventies, for many Delhiites, a 'charpoy' meant something far more than a four-legged cot made of ropes. Memories of our childhood were entwined with it. From sleeping to playing board games to hiding under it— the 'charpoy' has seen us grow. The 'charpoy' came in all sizes and could be made to order unlike the standard king and queen size beds found today. We rejoiced whenever the ropes got a little loose as the 'charpoy' became cosier like a hammock. It was gutted tight again. The best summer nights were spent lying under the starry skies on the 'charpoy'. I can still recall many nights of star gazing filled with fun and laughter. Each night, the earthy smell from a small 'surahi' filled with water and the cool breeze blowing through the 'Rangoon malli' climber caressed us to a good sleep. With the first rays of sun, the 'charpoys' were stacked back closely in a small verandah for the lack of space.</p>.<p>Come winters, again the 'charpoys' were dusted and brought out, but this time it was during the day. Post breakfast, as if it were a routine, all would head to the verandah to pick up the 'charpoy' and place it where the sun was strong. A 'rajai' alongside would surely provide that extra comfort. Later, the peddlers like 'moongphali-wala', 'alootiki-wala' or 'chikki-wala' could be heard shouting their usual slogans. This sticky round jaggery disc filled with the warm goodness of the peanuts would be handed over on a newspaper for a small amount and that was shared by every member of the family. </p>.<p>Afternoon lunches were mostly stuffed parathas with homemade pickle and curd that would be laid out on one 'charpoy'— it would be turned into a dining table lined with newspapers. Under a thin muslin covering, we could see the new batch of carrots, cauliflowers and turnips drying themselves on another 'charpoy'. The pots for pickling would also be lined close by for drying. After lunch, steaming hot ginger tea accompanied with yummy atta biscuits from local ration shop was a bliss. </p>.<p>As all good things come to an end, couple of years later we came to hear of a theft in our neighbouring block. Despite our loyal 'Gorkha ' whistling, banging the stick on the road and shouting ‘jagte raho’ throughout the night, a decision had been made by the elders in the house that it was henceforth unsafe to sit or sleep outside in the open. Times changed and the 'charpoys' made their slow exit. Only the sturdy ones stayed back for other purposes and the verandah saw some new flowerpots lined along the walls.</p>
<p>Back in the early seventies, for many Delhiites, a 'charpoy' meant something far more than a four-legged cot made of ropes. Memories of our childhood were entwined with it. From sleeping to playing board games to hiding under it— the 'charpoy' has seen us grow. The 'charpoy' came in all sizes and could be made to order unlike the standard king and queen size beds found today. We rejoiced whenever the ropes got a little loose as the 'charpoy' became cosier like a hammock. It was gutted tight again. The best summer nights were spent lying under the starry skies on the 'charpoy'. I can still recall many nights of star gazing filled with fun and laughter. Each night, the earthy smell from a small 'surahi' filled with water and the cool breeze blowing through the 'Rangoon malli' climber caressed us to a good sleep. With the first rays of sun, the 'charpoys' were stacked back closely in a small verandah for the lack of space.</p>.<p>Come winters, again the 'charpoys' were dusted and brought out, but this time it was during the day. Post breakfast, as if it were a routine, all would head to the verandah to pick up the 'charpoy' and place it where the sun was strong. A 'rajai' alongside would surely provide that extra comfort. Later, the peddlers like 'moongphali-wala', 'alootiki-wala' or 'chikki-wala' could be heard shouting their usual slogans. This sticky round jaggery disc filled with the warm goodness of the peanuts would be handed over on a newspaper for a small amount and that was shared by every member of the family. </p>.<p>Afternoon lunches were mostly stuffed parathas with homemade pickle and curd that would be laid out on one 'charpoy'— it would be turned into a dining table lined with newspapers. Under a thin muslin covering, we could see the new batch of carrots, cauliflowers and turnips drying themselves on another 'charpoy'. The pots for pickling would also be lined close by for drying. After lunch, steaming hot ginger tea accompanied with yummy atta biscuits from local ration shop was a bliss. </p>.<p>As all good things come to an end, couple of years later we came to hear of a theft in our neighbouring block. Despite our loyal 'Gorkha ' whistling, banging the stick on the road and shouting ‘jagte raho’ throughout the night, a decision had been made by the elders in the house that it was henceforth unsafe to sit or sleep outside in the open. Times changed and the 'charpoys' made their slow exit. Only the sturdy ones stayed back for other purposes and the verandah saw some new flowerpots lined along the walls.</p>