Amby Villa — A timeless soul

“For men may come and men may go
Amby villa stays forever”

Have you ever felt that warm tight hug when you enter a place? A feeling that can’t be expressed by mere words.

The welcoming sight of fresh greens, musty aroma of antique wooden furniture and the crackling noise of dried leaves. All of this complemented with the faint mindless chatter and laughter of people who give meaning to this house. Amby Villa isn’t just a house, it is an abode for several hearts.

This vintage chamber has been in our family for three scores and more. Safe to say that she’s witnessed it all.

My earliest memories of Amby dates back to my childhood. Bengaluru was where I lived, but Amby was where my heart was. The mere mention of its name brought joy and excitement and the dawn of any holiday drew our entire clan together from different parts of the world. It was heavenly to be here and witness Diwali, Pongal, Varalakshmi Nombu (only for the yummy kozhukattais and oothukuli vennai).

Spread across 2400 square feet of land, Amby is a spacious 2 storey house that has withheld the test of time and climate over several years. The huge front yard is decorated with flora like, aloe vera, karpooravallis (mexican mint), vethalai creeper (beetlenut leaves), karuvepillai (curry leaves), tulsi and many types of keerais (edible leafy greens) that gives this amalgamated freshness to the house.

The house is protected by a high iron fenced gate that opens to the front porch and a small narrow path that leads to the main door. Much to my surprise (which I never noticed when I was young), the main door looks like it was built to accommodate a family of smurfs contradicting to the generously made ceiling inside the house. Amby has a rustic, worn-down look layered with this magnetic charm, very similar to an encapsulating storyteller. Only if the walls could talk?

Amby has seen through several changes. Each change is a reflection of the different family members who have called it their home. She has been and continues to be a pillar of strength, a guardian angel and a silent protector to the entire NSC clan.

Amby’s delightfully dingy corridors is home to most of my childhood memories. Playing lock and key with cousins, walking on the frail compound and testing gravity. Once, my sister, my cousin and I lost balance and relied on a cable for support that in-turn made the whole street lose it’s power supply. Man, what a mess and menace we were.

The memories of Diwali stood out vividly amongst the others. To an already large family, we would add about 20 odd cousins to join the chaos the night before. We would share stories with each other and close the night with spine chilling horror incidents (mostly just made-up). When the dawn breaks, or even before, our excitements would nearly stop us from sleeping. We would wake up at 4 AM and run downstairs for our mothers to put nelangu and take arathi for us whilst our grandmothers would be in the kitchen making drums of sweets and savouries to distribute it to our neighbours and relatives. The sweet aroma of sambar and idlies would be lingering around the house. And during Diwali, all our meals were scrumptious.

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Our house during diwali! :) (and our dangerously deceptive doggo standing like a rooster)

We kutties would run to the front porch after taking a spoon of lehiyam. Our lehiyam stuffed mouth would fight for lighting the first cracker (firework). It wasn’t just a battle between cousins, it was THE battle of the street, as to who makes the first wake up call. Even though it was my father firing the first one up, our loud arguments would have already been the first alarm and the fire cracker would be a snoozed wake up call.

We all take turns to shower, amby had 3 bathrooms. We all wear our new, matching outfits, take aasirvadham (Blessings) from each of our family member and sit for the most awaited meal of the day. Idly, vada, chutney and sambar. It might seem normal to one, but the joy of sharing that meal with your family and on a Diwali wearing new clothes, that joy is unparalleled.

Not a single Diwali (or any festival) passes by without watching a Superstar movie. The house would be filled with whistles, claps and loud commentaries and it continues to be one of the most joyous days of the year.

During monsoon, the rains would make us run frantically with our buckets and umbrellas to stop leaky ceilings and to clear out clogged drains. For us kids, it was thomping our feet out in the pool of water we see around the house and getting yelled at by our mothers. (The road was laid many many years after the house was built, that explains the water-logging)

Over time, over several seasons as we transformed along with the house, the laughter that was once heard everyday was seldom heard but yet she managed to keep the spirits alive. Harbouring our lineage from our great great grandfather to us now, Amby has become an emotion.

Amby has witnessed several reunions under different circumstances. She brought us all together one last time during covid and sheltered us for a longer time than expected. Little did we know that she will reunite us all with one of the biggest part of my family missing, my father.

It was my fathers wish to retire in that house and do his routine of watering the plants, sitting out in the front porch with waffle (our pet) loudly sipping on his coffee and walk 5000 odd steps everyday in the terrace (an achievement it was for him!). We lived there to see the day where he was no more.

Amby was always the end of one and the beginning of another. It feels different this time and hopefully we would find the strength to return to Amby to embrace all those memories we made there.

The end of one had dawned, the beginning awaits.

For what we all say at the end of the day at the Nsc,

“Men may come and men may go..
Amby lives forever”