Himachali Houses

Mornings in the mountain would be pretty cold to get up early. Getting buried under the heavy warm blankets would be everyone's preferred choice. But we had a little warrior among us who would get up early and get ready for the school all by herself. She needed nobody's help to dress her up or to arrange books in her school bag. Noor was an independent girl, just like her mother. Someday's, to our surprise, she wouldn't get up not wanting to go to the school. She would give the universal reason which all kids give to bunk the school. Stomach Ache. Maybe that reason was coded in our DNA. Also, partly because I used to spoil her. Madhu was well aware of my laziness and easy-going attitude. She would blame me for my bad influence on Noor that the kid was getting lazy because of me. In my defence........ well there was no defence. Madhu was right. So I too would blame myself. 

It would be a fun day when Noor would bunk school. I would cook her favourite chapati-omelette while simultaneously mixing bournvita with warm milk in her Spiderman cup. By the breakfast time, she would have already forgotten about her stomach ache. The promise she would make to her mother about studying the whole day instead of going to the school would fade away by early noon. Noor would be back in full action of enjoying the day. Roaming around the garden, sitting on the rocks in the stream, collecting stones, playing with dolls and munching on fruits would be part of her daily grind. We would also go hiking together. The trail passing in front of our house would lead uphill to the villages situated up in the mountain. Madhu and Noor had many friends in those villages. So we would plan short visits to them with a plan of collecting woods on our way back. My main excitement would be in seeing those beautiful mud houses. 

There would be some earthly feeling in those houses. Absolutely different energy than concrete houses. Looking at them would seem like witnessing some beautiful creation. 3 feet thick mud walls, heavy roof slates, big stone's flooring, and a wooden work throughout the house would make those structures unique. They carried a certain rawness in them reflecting beautiful imperfection in their design. One could smell soil while sitting inside. Mud houses would keep the climate warm in winters and cool in summers. It was said that mud houses were alive because they would breathe. Even though they would lack in strength, the feeling of a home would never lack in them. Every house had a front yard which would give the residers space to carry out their farm produced activities. Also, that space would come to help when they would host some function at their house. Not to say, that would also serve as a playground to the kids. 

Madhu was so fond of mud houses, that she had decided to paint the cement walls of our house with mud. For the sake of longevity and strength, she had chosen to build a concrete house. She tried her best in keeping less concrete and more wood for the house. Visits to those cute little villages would bring immense joy. Noor and I would sit in the balcony repeatedly brushing off the soil getting rubbed on our clothes. There would be goats and cows tied next to the yard. Some chickens would be roaming around in the garden. Elderly would be sitting outside with walking sticks in their hand. Meanwhile, kids would be busy hopping around and playing with the dogs. Women in the house would be waiting for their men to return from the farms. Each part of those houses would reflect life. They had no basic city house furniture and appliances. Like, sofa, fridge, washing machine, geyser, gas stove etc. Still, they looked complete to me with all their imperfections.

Those Mud Houses Had Life In All The Forms.