Bemused

I grew up in a city, studied in an English medium school, went in a school bus, had access to high-end facilities at school such as library, playground and such. For me saying "My name is so and so" was easier than cutting cake, mention my father's name, address, city in English; I was adored in my village more than two decades back. It was unheard of someone who can say one line in English.  Village where access to electricity is somewhat equivalent to water accessibility in cities like Bangalore in summers, now. There would have been successive days where one had had electricity for say more than five hours. To me back in city it was rare to have electricity shed except summers, or early mornings. I can say I had had a fancied childhood, a fortunate one. Touch wood. In summers I played marbles, did mischiefs all around in weddings, house inauguration, looked at night full of stars, made wishes for good marks in grade exams gazing at falling stars, wondered at shift of 7-star constellation. Whenever I returned to attend school I never had story to tell students where did I go for vacations except my native village of which none had heard name. Year after year I got upset for not a different answer other than same location. It was tearing then, but I long for my childhood summers, now. Anyway, looking back it is mixed bag of memories I've. Over the run of school year I had had relatives, acquaintances visit home for shopping jewelry, car stickers, car horns, clothing, get make-up box for bride and other numerous things. They would be conned in market for twenty-thirty Indian rupees, they would forget a bag full of sweets at a woolen shop. The stories were endless every evening when guests paid visits. They would tell tale that left tears in our eyes and left home rumbustious. Amidst all this I saw a look of utter astonishment in their eyes when they had seen a TV set, street lamp working, an auto-rickshaw, organized way in which students line-up, sit in a bus in early morning. Complete shock and total bewilderment look in their eyes. Sometimes it was look if had had known I could have gotten my kids these, at times a look of welling tears due to poor finances, paltry amount of money to get gift on a marriage function or any other family get together. There was shock in eyes.
I didn't understand them then. I never could have comprehended it, even if they had had bespoken of it. I couldn't have, until I saw the look in me when I visited the US, my family visited to the US. I was thrown off then I saw miles of state highways organized immaculately, silence at night which would shake the sleep out of you. I saw the same look in parents' eyes when they had seen people running errands, girls running around in street market, putting stalls, lines when buying at a supermarket. Places that we visited threw them off, they have different perception now of a new world, where they visited, compared things for water, light, schools, noise in a bus while traveling. I tear up when I see that look now, it throws a brick in my stomach. I can now understand what it was from my relatives visiting my city two decades ago when I see same gaze in the eyes of my family. Absolutely bemused.