This past weekend as K went off to play cricket after we got home from the get-together for my blogger friend, I started the laundry, put away our loot from the party and got situated on my recliner with my laptop open. Browsing Facebook, I got caught up on all the updates. Typing in a new status message, I heard the phone ring. The caller id showed it was from a friend and colleague. Smiling, I said hello. They were in the neighborhood and checked to see if they could stop by.
The rest of the evening was spent chatting away and entertaining their adorable son. As K came in tired and tanned from playing in the Spring sun, his face lit up seeing them home.
The next day, it happened again. This time as we pulled into our driveway returning from work, we saw our neighbor from couple of doors down walking towards us with his kids in tow. As we stopped to say hello, they joined us for an evening of general conversation. As they left, K and I felt warm and good.
As much as we treasure it when we invite people home and cook for them, it is the casual, on the spur of the moment visits that really are a joy. The spontaneity of it all. It reminds me of the calling bell at home ringing at odd hours. I would open the door to find Appa’s friend from work or a family friend who happened to be passing by that side of town or the distant third cousin who was in town for a wedding. Amma would scramble to make coffee and dig up snacks or make an instant upma to serve up. Appa would hastily pull on a shirt and give company to our guests. Depending on how well I knew them, I would either join Appa or listen in on the conversation from the sidelines.
Here in the suburbs, I hardly hear the doorbell ring but when it does, I am filled with curiousity and happiness. So, till the next time someone decides to pay us a surprise visit, I will savor the ones from last week.