When we started the construction, there was only one house in one of the artisan plots on the opposite side of the street. On our side, ours was the first house. No other house was closer than maybe 200 yards. By the time we moved in, another house in the artisan plots had sprung up, and another one was under construction on our side.

We did not build any compound wall, but with a young family and such a vast open area around us, we were compelled to erect a fence as if that could deter trespassers. But security in the mind was more important than physical security. The fence offered that.

There was only one bus going around in that area, and it was very infrequent. To go to any doctor or even a semblance of a shopping area, located at least two miles away, we often had to wait an hour to catch a bus. Add the travel time and return, and half the day would be gone. A small store opened up around half a mile away, which was a welcome relief. Selling provisions, kerosene, and vegetables, it fulfilled our immediate needs grandly. The owner, who was just a small boy then, is still running the store under the same name, even after more than 45 years. Now well-settled with his kids abroad, he still wants to continue the small business that gave him life, even in his seventies.

Luckily, by the time my children reached school age, a few more schools had sprung up. One school was less than a mile away, and the children’s favorite transport of those days—a cycle rickshaw—was always available to take them to and from school. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that this rickshaw owner was one of the most popular people among the little kids.

There were no auto-rickshaw stands within a one-mile radius. Spotting an auto-rickshaw, especially an empty one, was as rare as a blue moon.

With such vast open areas, there was always fear about petty thieves, burglaries, and robberies. In a couple of years, many owners began construction, and construction workers could be seen everywhere. What we might now perceive as a danger was actually a source of solace and protection back then.

My workplace? Don’t even ask about that. A 15-minute walk, at least an hour-long bus ride, and another 10-minute walk, and I would be lucky to reach my workplace. And the return? If I got back late, the 15-minute walk from the bus stop to the house would be a nerve-wracking journey in absolute darkness through a deserted area. If I was carrying my monthly salary, I would be shivering and perspiring, even in the cold sea breeze. It was an adventure every day.

As for my wife? For even small requirements, like grinding coffee seeds, wheat, rice, or chilies for spice powder, she had to carry not only the bucket containing these items but also our younger son, who was born there. The walk would be between one and two miles through absolute stillness, rare traffic, and deserted places.

My bus rides were also a great experience. Boarding a crowded bus required skills so you wouldn’t end up hanging from the footboard. Then, you had to inch your way inside, instantly perspiring along with everyone else. Avoiding others’ perspiration and the discomfort it caused was like a ballet dance mixed with pranayama. It took even greater skill to grab a seat that had been vacated a millisecond ago. Most of the time, I had to travel standing, my body jerking and jolting, swaying and falling, unsteady on aching feet with every brake and acceleration of the bus. Getting down, especially if not at the terminus—God forbid—was the most challenging maneuver. You had to start your forward movement at least three stops before your destination, inching your way through, enduring angry mutterings from those in front, especially the women. And when the bus stopped, you had to leap down from the footboard. Many times, before you were fully inside or had alighted, the bus conductor, unable to see through the sea of people, would sound his dreaded whistle.

Coming home was such a relief, feeling like a journey from hell to heaven. Surprisingly, we didn’t feel the need for even a fan back then. There was plenty of breeze, and keeping the windows open always brought in fresh, soothing air.

Friendships did build up with some families, but they were very limited because there weren’t enough families around. In those days, I could see my house from one of the main avenues less than a mile away. That’s how sparsely populated the place was.

To be continued... 63 - How and How Not - Pain and Pleasure - Part 3