The Birth story

The last couple of weeks have been exciting times for me. Two of my first cousins delivered their first childs, Anand & Om within a gap of 10 days. A new life has the power of bringing so much of joy and happiness. Unfortunately since they stay in another country, I did not get the opportunity to go and visit them, but thanks to technology we could look at their pictures.

New births always bring me nostalgia, It reminds me of my birth story, which Pa used to narrate, I think, this was one of favourite stories, and I often asked Pa to repeat it for me. It made me very happy for some reason. Pa was a very good storyteller, and his narration was so good, that even today when he isn’t here anymore, I can still imagine those details as his words echo in my ears.

I still remember the time my sister was going to be born. I was too young to understand what was going on. A seven year old kid, who believed that by eating eggs one got pregnant, my aunt who I had visited in the US the previous summer, was so shocked by my understanding of the reproductive system that she immediately gifted me a book on egg to chicken. The book didn’t change my understanding too much,I continued to believe that my mom has eaten eggs that summer, and that’s the reason I would be having a sibling this Christmas. I remember accompanying my mom and dad to the monthy, bi monthly visits to the doctor and aimlessly sitting in waiting area of the doctors clinic, just looking at all the patients waiting there and wondering what ailment they had, and glancing through the medical journals which didn’t make any sense to me.

As they say you can never predict this things, one early winter morning the 11 of Dec 1988 to be precise, Ma and Dadi rushed to the hospital. Pa was still in Haldwani, scheduled to be back by 20th of Dec for my sister`s birth. It seemed like a normal Sunday morning, Dadaji was sitting on his sofa, happily reading his paper, chatting with me. Couple of minutes later the phone rang and Dadaji announced, “Dhruti you have a baby sister”.At that very moment, I don’t know how I decided, but I said than we will name her Shruti. I have no idea what happened after it, but she was officially named Shruti. I remember going to municipality office in Bandra along with Dadi to collect her birth certificate and Dadi explaining the importance of having a birth certificate to me.

I don’t recollect properly if I did go to Nanavati to see my sis, but I do remember looking at her in amazement, she was such a tiny little thing, I had probably never seen such a tiny human being in my life, so I was scared to even lift her in my hand, inspite of Pa insisting on me doing so. For the first 2-3months after her birth I just visited her on weekends and holidays with Pa, as Ma was staying at Nani`s house.

Shruti was a like a walking talking doll for me.I loved playing with her, tossing her up and down, scare her a little, pinch her cheeks.She was almost like a replica of my kid pictures. Infact I remember complaining to my Mom, that it wasn’t fair that she was always buying something for Shruti every week ( which was actually just Diapers) and nothing for me. Poor Ma had to deal with my tantrums of differentiation between me and my sister.But I still remember the joy, I had when she started crawling for the first time.It was almost like a new feature had been added to my doll, but I think I was most satisfied when I pushed her to walk, I would always make her stand and push her to take a step and one day she did start walking. It was a wonderful feeling and then we brought her the chu chu shoes the ones that generates a sound when one walk. She would happily walk around the house in those shoes. She was just 11 months old and she started walking. That was the end of my siblingdom story as she moved to the United States. When I look at her today, she stands almost 6 ft tall, its hard to imagine that one day she was that same tiny little being I was so scared to lift

After she left,the first couple of months were hard,the house felt so empty without her. It seemed like; my walking talking doll was taken away from me. Almost every one I knew in school or my neighbourhood or even my cousins all had siblings,I often felt that void of not having a sibling who i could nurture,guide protect, or be nurtured by. But as time passed by I started liking my singledom status and just felt happy counting the advantages I had by being the only child.More than that when I look at it now, I think I was very fortunate to have the kind of upbringing I had from my parents. They gave me so much of freedom to do what I wanted to do.I never remember asking anybody for permission, it was always informing them or taking their opinion on anything,I wanted to do.

I do wonder sometimes how life would have been with a sibling, especially when friends amaze me with the weirdest statements, and the weirdest of them was “You don’t like video games, because you don’t have a brother.”

Namesake

On one of those luxurious days when I actually had nothing to do,I decided to go and watch the movie Namesake at the local mall. I think, I like the concept of nothingness, it is indeed a luxury to have a day where you have nothing to do and nothing to think about, which leads you in to a land of wandering thoughts and imagination.
The movie, was ok and since I had read the book earlier it was just like a pictorial representation of the book. But after the movie as I ventured into my nothingness world, my mind got me thinking about the medley of names I have been addressed with from my existence on Planet Earth.

Dhruti- This is the name my father and bua (by tradition) gave me. Dhruti means courage and determination. I like my name, and more than me my parents liked it too, so they never addressed me with a pet name, as they feared that my actual name would get lost in the pet name.

Pudding-I think for the first couple of years of my life the sweet little kid that I was,Bhuj started calling me Pudding Infact even my first birthday cake, reads Happy Birthday Pudding. I dont think at that time I understood what Pudding really meant, but I was thrilled when Bhuj took me to Pudding street. Ofcourse with Pudding there was a list of many other names like Applepie, chickoo pie etc

Pattu- When I was little over 2 years old and we lived in Haldwani, my elder cousin who is just couple of months older to me, couldn’t pronounce my name,she started calling me Pattu, and then everyone in Haldwani started calling me Pattu.

Chotan as the little one and Piddu the little teddy bear were some cute names that Dadaji gave me.

DD-I dont quite recollect how I got this name. But I think we were going on a Rotaract trip and than some my friends started calling me Dangerous Dhruti, District Dhruti. DD. Of course the various abbreviations for DD followed

Daku DD -I think Daku was a name I gave myself, once I learnt about the fascinating Daku rehab stories in my family

The name destroyers, who could never prounounce my name
Daruti
Dhotar
Shruti
Kruti
Truti
Jyoti
Dorothy
Dhrooti

Babyji- Our servants in Haldwani used to address me

Bitya, Beta- From shopkeepers to bus conductors, acquaintances, to relatives to even some my younger friends. Infact I loved the way the old man my guide for one of the monuments in Lucknow kept addressing me as Bitya

Gudiya- This is a new one, I remember in Lucknow I was walking around a monument, and there was this family from a village who had probably come for the first time to a city and the head of the family he said Gudiya, "Yaah se Doosra Maqbara kitna dor hai", and again when I bumped into the family at another place, they kept calling me Gudiya.I like that

D- This is the shorter version for Didi, and my younger cousins call me D and I quite like it.

Dhruti Masi- Oh that sounds so sweet, when my young nieces and nephews( which are very few) and my friends kids call me that

Aunty- I obviously hate people calling me that , but guess I cant run away from the fact that I am an aunt to some people

Bhabiji- Hated it when the vegetable vendor called me that and warned him that I would never buy vegetables from him if he called me that

Behenji
Didi
Madam
Maam
Madamjee
Sisterjee
Aapa
Brother

List can go on, I guess, but what’s interesting is that one person can be called by so many different names in a short life span

Random thoughts

Sometimes the strangest things can ignite your minds, thought process and get you thinking. Over the past one week, a lot of random thoughts ignited out of various situations have led me thinking

Boring life or Age ?

It was a Friday evening, and I was catching up with my friend who has just returned to town after a long stay in Chennai and she insisted she wanted to eat at Mc Donald’s since there wasn’t a single outlet there. When I walked into that noisy and crowded Mc Donalds outlet at Parle, I just couldn’t handle the people, the noise, I wanted to get out. Some how we found a place to sit down, and as I waited with my friends college going brother as she stood in line to get the food, I remarked,
“Its so funny, some years ago I was a part of this chaos and noise, and now I cant handle this anymore, I think I am getting old”. He smiled and said, "You have not got old, but its just that you have a boring life, working in an Corporate office, if you quit your job and do nothing else, you will enjoy the noise and chaos”

I kept thinking about what he had said, did I really have such a boring life? Didn’t I do interesting and adventureous things ? After all i am this adventurer who those the craziest of things



Survival

I was reading one of the interesting short stories, and I came across this story called, Hope, which was about this rickshaw driver in Delhi narrating the story of his life. How he had walked over 500 km from his village in UP to come to Delhi to find a job, he walked 25km on a daily basis to work in a mill, and he was jobless for sometime after the mill closed down, worked in a printing press earned good money and then was jobless again after the new automatic printing machines came into existence.

A couple of days later, I was watching a show on Discovery called Colours of India, which was on the poster painting artists of India. In my school days I remember seeing the artists at work painting the latest movie posters or advertisements on the hoardings. This art has now been replaced by the computer. The paint brush of the artist has taken a backseat and all that this artists have are fond memories of the glory days where they were the biggest advertising agencies themselves and now left with some trifle work assignments from abroad.

I kept thinking of the rickshaw driver & the poster artists, how difficult life would have been for him, but they learned to survive, Imagine how you would feel if your source of livelihood is taken away from you.

For the poster artists, so many would have buried their talents behind to take up jobs as delivery boys, or waiters or whatever they got for survival




Marriage as Life insurance

One afternoon I was catching up with two of my married friends over lunch. As we chatted about this, that and other, they talked about their married life, rather one of them constantly bitching about her husband, while the other, the experienced of the lot was teaching her to learn to work around situations. I smiled inside, and told them, that I was glad I wasn’t married and didn’t have to worry about all this so called nokjhoks. To which I really liked what one of them said, “Marriage is like life insurance, just like you invest money for you future, when you invest in a relation like marriage, it’s a little difficult initially to pay the premiums, but when at the age of 60 you need companionship this premium will prove productive” I chuckled and said, your analogy is great, coz just like life insurance there is a risk here too, if your partner dies, the premium has gone down the drain


Singledom

I happened to meet one of favourite elderly friends to pick up some investment papers. As we chatted over Chai, he suddenly said “From my experience I can tell you, being single can get lonely sometimes, and it doesn’t mean that your unhappy, but you just get weird, like sometimes if you have people around, you wouldn’t want to talk to them, and if you are by yourself you will always keep wondering about having company” .

Well on my way back home I pondered about what he had just said. All my life, I have always been single, I grew up as an only child, I remember envying my friends for having siblings, and complaining to my Mom, for not having any brothers and sisters to play with . But as I grew up I got used to my singledom, I liked it that way, I did like meeting cousins, but it was only for a short while, after sometime I wanted my space and my peace. Even now I still do enjoy traveling alone. I don’t think too much if,I don’t have company to watch a movie or a play or to eat out or for any activity I wish to do, I just go ahead do it by myself. Although I do wish, I had company sometimes, and when I do have company sometimes I wish it was otherwise



Childhood

This is something I am constantly reminded off, when I see the little boy serving chai at tea stalls, or when I think of sweet waiter in Rajasthan who had abandoned his studies to work at the hotel we were staying at, or the school boy who missed school to manage the camel we were taking a ride on in deserts of Jaisalmer.

More recently I was cycling through Charkop area, and I saw this huge Maruti van , which was covered, all I saw was these group small children all clamed up together, they looked no different from the beggars we see on the road, I guess they were being taken to some place to be sold or to be trained to beg. As I looked at that van zooming passed me, I wondered what will happen to the childhood of these kids. Thousands and thousands of such children come into this city escaping from their homes in search of a brighter future, leaving their childhood behind

Filmtime : Bhojpuri ishtyle

I have always had this desire to watch a Bhojpuri film and see what its all about.From what i hear, Bhojpuri movies are made on shoe string budgets, and extremly profitable, especially in UP and Bihar.The biggest star of the Bhojpuri film industry is Ravi Kissan, Ofcourse Rakhi Sawant is also there, but only for item songs, i dont know if she has acted as lead in any of this movies. I still do not know much about the Bhojpuri film industry, but am intrigued to find out more. From the kind of actors, to the kind of money and time that goes into the making of the masala Bhojpuri films.


The general impression is that most Bhojpuri films are showcased at shady theatres full of unemployed men, bhaiyas, rickshaw and truck drivers. So when i voiced the desire to watch a bhojpuri film, the immediate reaction of mosto f my friends and collegeous was in negative, they all had just one answer,that I was insane and I shouldn’t go to watch such a movie in a theatre. None of my male friends agreed to accompany me to watch the movie, instead they volunteered to buy me a DVD to watch it at home. But as i have always believed, that if you want to get the flavour of a particular thing, you have to experience it in its natural surroundings. Watching a Bhojpuri movie in a local theatre, would not only give me an opportunity to watch the film, but also see the target audience watching it, and observe their reactions.

The viewing
When i had almost lost hope of watching the movie, one of my journalist- friend, the same guy who had promised, to take me to a dance bar and did not do so, messaged me enquiring about the Bhojpuri movie. Here was my chance of settling my old score, not realizing what he was really getting into he agreed to join me for the movie. I had already done my R & D on the Bhojpuri movie scene. The latest flick, Ram Balwan, starring Ravi Kissan was playing at Super Cinema in Grant road. I called the theatre just to ensure its not housefull. The guy having recognised my voice from the previous day calling to enquire about show timings says "Madam chinta mat karo, bahut ticket hai, aaram se mil jayega."


In the afternoon heat i walk from Grant road station towards chor bazzar. Super Cinemas is located a couple of blocks further to Novelty. Its only 2:30pm yet, the waiting area near the theatre is slowly filling up. Although its not very crowded. When the booking counter opens i go and buy two tickets, i ask the guy for good seats. He smiles and tells me "Madam, yeah free seating hai"Already some people are starring at me, my journalist friend has just left from town, so i take shelter in the local mughali restauran next door.
By the time my friend arrives, most of the people have alreay entered the theatre. The theatre is actually quite nice. Its just not maintained properly. In its glory days it must have been quite popular. We walk in to the balcony section, the movie has almost started, its so dark inside i cant even see my friend. The seats are little uneven, and the fillings in seats is worn out or eaten by rats, i guess. There is no air-conditioning only huge fans


The movie begins, in a matter a couple of mins, the two heros, Ravi Kissan and dont know the hero`s name save two girls from getting raped, those girl fall in love with them, there is song dance, the heros try to escape from the women, the women pray to god and suddenly find them playing Kusti in those typical underwears in the kheth. The Heros again try to run away heroines entice them with dance and jhatka matka. The hooting happens only from the stalls, when the women are dancing. The Heros mothers, Aruna Irani find out of their chakkar and she goes into flashback and tells them they have to take badla for their fathers death from father`s elder brother who is shown as very a cruel thakur. In flashback mode there are more than 5 item songs, or mujra types, the biggest obviously is of Rakhi sawant. In the end like all movies the sons take revenge by killing the uncles sons, and the uncle and then they live happily ever after.

All in all, Bhojpuri movies are really time pass, watching them at a theatre like super cinema is fairly decent, people won’t really bother you

To know more about Bhojpuri films click the link below.

http://www.bhojpuri.org/film.htm

Zindagi...

Zindagi ke safar main guzar jaate hain jo mukam

This thought provoking song written by Anand Bakshi has been my favourite since I was in school, but I had never really gone beyond the first two lines of the song. Having managed to download the song on my phone, I have been listening to it carefully amidst the chaos of the noisy train compartments on my way to work and lot of thoughts came to my mind.

Zindagi ke safar main guzar jaate hain jo mukaam
Woh phir nahin aate, woh phir nahin aate
This line is so true, things in our life are so momentary. The simplest thing like the moments of laughter you have experienced, while sharing a joke with your friend will never come back, maybe because the joke wont make you laugh anymore or the friend probably wont exist anymore.

This reminds me of a beautiful and a realist quote I read some where
"The irony of time is that, sometimes we laugh at the moments we have cried, and cry over the moments we have laughed"


Phool khilte aain, log milte hain
Phool khilte hain, log milte hain magar
Patjhad main jo phool murjha jaate hain
Woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
Kuchh log ek roz jo bichhad jaate hain
Woh hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
Umar bhar chahe koi pukaara kare unka naam
Woh phir nahin aate, Woh phir nahin aate
Zindagi ke safar main...

This para is my favourite, just like how flowers blossom every day, we meet new people everyday. Some stay back with us while some are taken away in the storm of time and inspite of meeting more over 1000 people in your lifetime, you can never replace the space of those people who you have lost over the period of time, what stays back is only memories.

If I reflect back, i try to recollect the wonderful times I have had with my group of friends during my college days.At that time they were the nucleus of my joy and happiness, but times change, people change, relations, circumstances change, and then you end up being in touch with just a few of them, your interaction levels come down, you get immersed at work, you meet more people at work, you make more friends. Your nucleus of friends changes to your work friends. In the course of time you end up bumping into people who you had met earlier, then they suddenly become the nucleus of your interaction, again with time and commitments some friends leave, this epic or this silsila of building new friendships and fading old friendships continues. Sometimes I wonder, if we eventually know that all this is going to be momentary then why do we invest so much of time and effort in it. The answer to that question probably lies in the same reason, that we all desire to lead a good and successful life in spite of knowing its going to end one day.


If you want to read the entire the lyrics of the song click on this link
http://tinyurl.com/75e57

If you want to listen to this beautiful song. Click on this link
http://tinyurl.com/c4zbp

Baklava hunt in Bombay

One Saturday afternoon as I chatted over chai with Dada, Dadi, we suddenly remembered Baklava which we all had relished back in Memphis and Detroit. Dadi offered to make it, if we could find the pastry strips needed to prepare it. I wondered if we could get Baklavas somewhere in Bombay. Putting good use to Dadaji latest computer and internet connection, I did a google search and to my amazement I did find a place called Iranian Sweet Palace in Dongri, which sold Baklavas but only in March before Iranian New year. There was no contact no, but just the address. We all were thrilled to find out that we had some hope to relish our delicacy in Bombay.

By chance a friend of mine happened to be at Mohammedali road called me for something else, but before he could say anything I excitedly blurted the details of the shop and obviously expected him to go to the shop and get me my Baklavas. But my friend returned with no Baklavas but Hasan Irani(the owner) contact no and information that I could buy the Baklavas in March.

Baklava or Baklawa is a rich, sweet pastry found in many cuisines of the Middle East, the Balkans and South Asia and developed in Ottoman cuisine. It is made of chopped nuts, usually walnuts or pistachios, layered with phyllo pastry, sweetened with sugar or honey syrup.In Turkey, it is particularly associated with the city of Gaziantep.

SO one evening, post work I excitedly called Hasan Irani, he told me I could come any time before 8pm and gave me apt directions to the place from worli. So I took the 124 bus, which is an interesting ride through Byculla, Navpada and Bhendi Bazzar . I got off the bus at Bhendi Bazar stop and asked an old uncle for directions. He directed me to lane further, and just as I began walking another inquisitive gentlemen approached me and enquired where I was heading. Another group of men in the corner of the lane also asked me where I was heading.

Iranian Sweet Palace

Finally I reach Iranian Sweet Palace, I had imagined it to be one of those typical sweet shops like Zam Zam, huge in size and ignited with lights. Iranian Sweet Palace has an old board, without lights, you could easily miss the shop if you were not looking carefully. Hasan was standing outside probably gazing at the chaos outside. He welcomed me with a smile and recognized me instantly to be the mad women coming to buy Baklavas from the other end of town. The shop didn’t look like a sweet shop at all, there were these huge plates full of Baklavas, Pista & Kesar( similar to Baklava but made of pista & Kesar). The Baklavas are prepared in the Iranian style with more of the sweet and less of the pastry part, the ones I had eaten were more Turkish and French style. Baklavas are for 450rupees a kg. The problem is that Baklavas weigh a lot but are small in size, so you don’t have much of choice but to buy the 1 kg packing

The baklavas are made here in the traditional Iranian style, cooked with wood fire. Hasan`s family has been running this shop for more than 98 years now. Hasan claims to have the only shop in India to be preparing Baklavas, that too only in one month of the year. He also has some Iranian sweets and dates. When I recommend him to advertise his sweets in paper, he contently tells me “ I am just happy doing this, just catering to Irani community, I have enough for my self, I sold my restaurant Light of Asia for a fortune, I have 3 other houses, some are on rent, and some good investment in stock exchange, so I don’t need anything”.

So with my Baklavas packets in hand I walk through one of my favourite roads,Mohammed Ali road. I loved watching the Irani & Muslim restaurants serving maska pav and chai and the huge bakery and sweet shops like Zam Zam. The vendors trying to lure me to buy their goods right from the burkhas to the colourful dress materials. The minara masjid which looked so dim without al lthe lighting which I had seen during Ramzan. The sound of the Ayan( call for prayers). For sometime you could just forget you were in Bombay, you could be at Chowk in Lucknow or Chandni Chowk in Delhi

Generation X- Children’s world

As I dragged my self out of my Sunday slumber to attend my 10 year old neighbours birthday party never had I imagined that I was about to embark into a totally different world of the children of today.

As we walked in to this popular pizza eatery, the atmosphere was celebratory; the kids were playing the age old musical chairs conducted by the event manager of the chain. As each of the kids were out after every round, they had to come out and do a punishment, either sing a song dance etc.

The first boy to get out, a 10 year old, who I developed an instant liking to due to his very intelligent brains, sang a popular Sean Paul song Temperature. I was amazed to know that he knew the entire lyrics of the song. Later when I chatted with him, he told me he knew the lyrics of many English numbers, he listens to a lot of Sean Paul nos . I was so zapped, I still remember as a 10 year old I had no clue of music, or an artist .

Another 8 year girl gets dismissed from the game, as a punishment she is asked to dance like Shakira, that is the punishment suggested by the children present there. Initially the girl is shy but in a matter of minutes when the music starts, she gets into the swing and her steps go exactly like Shakira from her latest video.

In another game, the birthday girls parents and grandparents also join in. when the parents get out, the children instantly demand that they should also be given a punishment. The birthday girl suggests the parents dance, and my smart 10 year old friend along with 2 other girls recommends them to do a ball dance or jive . I don’t think I even knew what a ball dance or jive was till I even reached college. Of course the parents were very sporty and they danced beautifully to some popular number

As I was expressing my shock at the changing era of birthday parties and children to a young mother sitting next to me, she narrated an interesting incident of her friends 7 year old daughter who had short listed 3 potential candidates as her husband from school. She told her mother that she had short listed them, because one of them was strong, the other always came first in line and third one comes first in class. When her mother remarked that this it was too early for her to get married or choose a life partner, as girls got married only after the age of 25, her reply was that she wanted to finish one of the important works earlier only, copied her mothers dialogue in gujrati( Ek Kaam patavi devano ne ma) good to finish one work . Another mother at her son`s school who is a gynecologist was telling her, when she tried to educate her son about reproduction process, the son coolly told his mom,"Mom you don’t need to tell me about this, I know how babies are born". Times had really changed, the young mother infect invited me to come one evening at her place, and she could narrate even more such anecdotes since she has gathered many in her 7 years of motherhood

After the birthday cake was cut and the games were played, the kids settled down for a grub. Our generation bday parties of samosa , wafer and Rasna were replaced by the pizzas, garlic bread and coke. I joined the kids on the table, thinking this would be an interesting experience for me to learn from generation next.

10 year olds take on :-

Movies- All the kids watched all the latest movies whether it was Dhoom, KANK or even Nishabd. The kids almost agreed in unison that they liked to watch romantic movies and action films. A 10 year old boy tells me that he had watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Main Ho Na at least 50 times on his personal DVD player. But now he loves to watch all the horror movies

Idea of day out – Playgrounds or gardens were something no one wanted to go to . They all liked to either go to In orbit mall or to watch a movie. Amusment parks were still ok .

Clothes- I asked the kids if they picked up their clothes, or they parents did. Most of the kids liked to pick up their own clothes. I asked them how did they know what was in fashion or not. Did they look at the clothes in movies and buy or otherwise. The birthday girl who is undoubtedly the smartest of the lot replied” Didi we are not so dumb, we have a sense of style, we know what looks good and what is in fashion, we don’t need movies to tell us that.”

Games- None of the girls liked to play with dolls, or play doctor doctor, or house, house. They liked to play Hide n Seek or practice the latest steps of some dance number. Dancing was really in. Boys liked to play video games or watch movies at home, no one liked any toys

On girl friends/ boyfriends - Obviously since I was talking to such a grown up set of children, I couldn’t resist asking them whether they had girlfriends or boyfriends. This is interesting. The three boys in the group immediately pointed at each other stating that they had girlfriends. My intelligent 10 year old friend tells me that the guy sitting next door has a girlfriend, but she has moved to London and he writes to her and all. With a little blush on his face, the boys says that no there is nothing like that, it was just that they were teasing him a lot so he just said that the girl in London was his girlfriend, she was just a friend.
My intelligent friend also refuses all the rumours about being linked to the girl who lives in the next building stating, that she is not my girlfriend but a girl who is a good friend of mine. She was new in school and she didn’t know anybody, so I became her good friend and this people started teasing me with her. Obviously our smarty pants couldn’t resist asking me the question, so he asked, "Didi you are asking us, what about you, you are so old, don’t you have a boyfriend?."

As the kids bid good bye to me, for a moment, I really wondered how times have changed, today’s children know so much more, It seemed like a different world had grown up when I was away.