Chapter 7: Roots and Rituals
January 1978 – December 1979
Singh Family Home, Lucknow, India
Bharat's Age: 2–4 Years
The days in the Singh household flowed like songs — each season bringing its own melody. And for young Bharat, now between two and four years old, life was a mix of rituals, mischief, and moments of quiet wonder. What set him apart was not just his curiosity, but the strange, steady knowing that pulsed beneath everything — like he had lived once before and was here again, gifted another chance.
But this time, Bharat knew: he wouldn't waste it.
Learning to Bow and Bless
Every morning, as the aroma of sandalwood and agarbatti (incense) filled the house, Bharat would scamper to the small mandir in the corner of the drawing room. His Dadi (grandmother) would light the diya and softly chant verses from the Tulsi Ramayan.
"Come, beta," she would say, patting the floor beside her.
Bharat folded his hands, closed his eyes, and whispered, "राम-राम, भगवानजी।" ("Ram-Ram, Lord.")
He had learned to touch the feet of elders — not because he was told to, but because it felt right. Each morning, he would make a small ritual of it.
"Dadaji, aashirvaad dijiye." ("Grandfather, please bless me.")
He'd place his tiny hands on his Chachas' (uncles') feet too, and even on the house staff's older helpers, just to make them smile. He would often say afterward in his soft voice, "Mujhe bada aur samajhdar banna hai." ("I want to grow wise and good.")
The Grand Wedding of Arjun Chacha
The spring of 1978 brought Major Arjun's wedding, and the entire Singh household turned into a palace of preparation. The air was filled with haldi, marigold garlands, and excitement.
"Bharat, yeh laddu le jaao na!" ("Bharat, take these sweets over!") someone would call, and he'd dash around proudly carrying trays that were nearly too heavy.
But what Bharat loved most was the music. The shehnai played early in the morning. Dholaks echoed through the evenings. One afternoon, during the mehendi, he dipped his own fingers in the paste and began painting the wall until Pooja Bua giggled, "Yeh toh kalakar nikla!" ("He's an artist!")
During the baraat, he stood beside Arjun Chacha, holding his hand tightly as they approached the ghodi (wedding horse).
"Can I sit too?" Bharat whispered.
Arjun lifted him high and placed him behind him on the saddle. Bharat's heart raced — "Is this a flying horse?", he wondered.
Lights shimmered around them, and Bharat danced wildly with cousins in front of the horse. The dhol beat so loud, it echoed in his chest. He copied the grown-up steps, spinning and throwing his hands in the air while the neighbors clapped.
"Yeh toh baraatiyon ka star hai!" someone called. ("He's the star of the wedding!")
Later, during the photo session, Bharat stood in the center with a serious face, hands behind his back.
"I am the guard," he whispered to himself.
The photographer asked, "Smile please!"
"I'm on duty," Bharat said solemnly, making everyone burst into laughter.
Welcoming Kavita Chachi
Arjun's bride, Kavita, came from a respected family in Prayagraj — her father was a professor of Hindi literature, and her mother ran a women's teaching circle. She was graceful, patient, and instantly loved by the Singh family.
But the first night, Bharat peeked into her room, made a face, and ran off giggling.
"Dekho toh sahi!" Kavita exclaimed, "Yeh chhota chor toh meri choodiyan le gaya!" ("This little thief ran off with my bangles!")
From that day on, Bharat and Kavita Chachi became an inseparable duo. He would sit with her during chai-time and ask questions like, "Why do brides wear red?" or "How many rasgullas can you eat?"—to which she'd reply with exaggerated answers just to hear him laugh.
"Bharat," she said once, pulling his cheek, "tu toh mere sasural ka king hai!" ("You're the king of my in-laws' place!")
Raghav Chacha's Turn
Months passed after Arjun's grand wedding, and soon, the house buzzed again — this time for Raghav Chacha's wedding in early 1979.
Compared to Arjun's army ceremony, Raghav's was full of street flavors — Lucknowi qawwali, spicy chaat, and endless laughter.
Bharat took his self-assigned job very seriously — Official Baraat Dancer. Wearing his favorite green kurta with gold buttons, he spun like a top in front of the dhol, leading the group all the way to the bride's house.
When they reached the gate, he shouted, "Ab toffee do! Dulhan milegi baad mein!" ("Give me toffees first! The bride can wait!")
Everyone laughed. Raghav's bride, Nirmala, came from a business family in Kanpur. Her father owned a sweet shop chain, and her brothers immediately bonded with Bharat by teaching him how to steal barfis without being caught.
Kavita and Nirmala became like elder sisters to him. One evening, all three were sitting in the courtyard.
Kavita teased, "Bharat, tumhe kaunsi Chachi zyada pasand hai?" ("Which Chachi do you like more?")
Bharat, thoughtful, replied, "Yeh meri left wali Chachi khaane ke time achhi hai… aur right wali Chachi kahani sunati hain." ("This Chachi on the left is best at food time, and the one on the right tells better stories.")
"Smart boy!" Nirmala laughed, kissing his forehead.
Little Bonds, Big Lessons
These two years weren't just about ceremonies. Bharat was forming bonds, watching love unfold through rituals, and understanding that a joint family wasn't just a tradition — it was a living, laughing, evolving story.
He played hide and seek under beds, ran on rooftops, tried to light sparklers during Diwali without getting caught, and helped mix colors during Holi — even splashing his Dadi once, which got him chased with a wet towel.
On Janmashtami, he dressed as little Krishna — flute in hand, peacock feather tucked behind his ear — and stood on a stool declaring, "Mujhe makhan chahiye!" ("I want butter!")
Reflection in a Child's Heart
One quiet night, after both weddings, Bharat lay on the terrace, staring at the stars. Kavita found him there and asked, "Kya soch rahe ho?"
He replied softly, "Shaadiyon ke baad ghar bada lagta hai… aur achha bhi." ("After weddings, the house feels bigger… and nicer.")
"Hmm," she said, brushing his hair. "It's because love makes room for everyone."
He smiled. "Fir main bhi badha dil banaunga." ("Then I'll grow a big heart too.")
And in that moment — under the wide Lucknow sky — Bharat, just a small boy with big eyes, felt the weight and wonder of family, love, and legacy.