Leaving Home

Let me ask you my friend,
What would you do?
If suddenly you were asked to pack a bag,
And leave your home.
The time will be short,
The bag most definitely too small.
You will have to hurry and leave before dawn….
Oh, you brush me aside.
No way,
not possible to pack so fast!

Let me tell you what I did,
When my father asked me to do this.
He was broken hearted,
Yet calm and gentle.
He spoke softly,
So as not to disturb the Ghar-divta, our house spirit.
For in that age and time,
We believed that our homes were living things,
The devoted spirit of each home lived in its attic,
And protected it’s members everyday.

So on this night,
The night we had to abandon our home and divtas and spirits,
We spoke softly.
My father wanted to save the gods the pain of seeing us leave,
Of not being able to protect and save their offspring.
So we left quietly in the morning hours, long before the sun rose.
In my bag, I kept my school work, for my teacher was tough, and
a half written letter to my friend.
Just these two, my entire life at that moment.
And my sister hurriedly packed a book and some clothes.
Mismatched, but enough for two days. Or maybe four.
As we left the serpentine lane behind, we wondered who would water the grass and the hedges.
We worried if the cold wind would blow the clothes left out to dry and take them too far away.
About what the January frost would do to the harvested pumpkin, lovingly kept in the attic with the spirits.
And we also wondered about the packets and packets of salt.
For our home was young, and we were still receiving traditional house warming bags of salt.
We worried about the mundane, the simplicity of what we left behind.

After decades, I return to the same serpentine lane.
I carry the small bag in my very being.
It is coiled, knotted and hurting.
There are new parts of me rattling inside this bag too,
Hoping to be let loose.
But what I really want-
Is to go and meet the Ghar-divta,
The spirit of my home and tell him that we all lived.

What I want most,
Is to set the Divta free.

Bhavna