Takes more than mansion to be happy

Rameshinder Singh Sandhu

Just a few days ago, I was given an enthraling tour of captivating homes – mostly bungalows that were huge in size, creative in style, radiating glamour. Live commentary was regaling, packed with many intriguing facts. No, I was not on a sightseeing bus in Beverly Hills, which daily showcases awe inspiring mansions of famous Hollywood stars to tourists from across the globe, but in Chandigarh where a friend from school days was my guide in his car. Interestingly, neither had I asked for this tour, nor I expected it but he was so fervent that he never wanted to bring the curtains down.

I was meeting him for the first time after leaving school, which was more than a decade ago, and the moment I sat in his car, the tour commenced – mostly homes of all his relatives and friends. For me, it was just like looking at homes of strangers and hearing along how much they earn every month from their many businesses, about their lifestyle and their contacts. While I enjoyed the start, but as he went on, taking me everywhere he wanted to – boredom set in and I wondered when it would culminate. To puncture his enthusiasm, I made a point to avoid any curiosity, but he made his show go on. When some houses shared boundaries with those of the famous, his excitement ballooned.

Feeling monotonous, I pondered these homes might be beautiful and grand, but was the life of those living in also as beautiful as the homes? What about the much-needed peace of mind? I know materialistic things have nothing to do with peace. Such things rather rob the peace from us, despite bringing comforts.

Finally, there was a change in the scene. We eventually stepped in one of the homes. He was desperate to show me its enthralling interiors. A septuagenarian uncle there, living alone with a battery of servants, took us instantly for a show-round as if I had to buy it. “The marble floor you are walking on is from Rajasthan, the chandeliers from Turkey, the paintings from Italy …” and he continued, not forgetting the coasts for everything.

As we bade adieu, my friend pulled up a sad story fraught with self-created complications by the same uncle in his family life. That’s the point, I instantly announced. Life is not about having grand bungalows, but about having real joy and peace. It’s about love and unity in the family. Moreover, happiness and peace are within us, and not in materialistic things.

After all, one can buy medicine not health, bed but not sleep. Who knows a poor family staying at a construction site near some mansion sleeps richly every night.

I am reminded what I recently came across on a friend’s Facebook wall: “It’s not how big the house is, but how happy the home is.” Doesn’t it say all?