I remember going to visit my grandparents in Calcutta - it was not called Kolkata then. The grandparents, my parents, their siblings and their kids and eventually the kids of the erstwhile kids. Everyone came together under one roof for the two summer months, turning four nuclear families into one joint family. Chaotic and unruly at times, but definitely a lot of fun. That was my first taste of a joint family. The summer months had the same predictable pattern. My grandma was an avid story teller. My cousins and I would sit around and listen to the same stories every year... fascinated. Then we became teenagers. The stories seemed repetitive. We wanted to do cool stuff or else we would be awfully bored. So my grandparents took on the responsibility of taking us to see some English film about Tarzan. My cousins and I rummaged through the old Tarzan comics in anticipation. I don't remember the name of the film, but in this film Tarzan was spending disproportionate amount of time coochie-cooing with Jane than the apes. My grandparents shunted us out of the movie within the first ten minutes so as to prevent us teenagers from being corrupted by such films. We were all disappointed because we were just beginning to be curious about such stuff and welcomed any knowledge updates. Four generations of people living under the same roof was chaotic. Everything got amplified. The fights were louder. We had to share everything - from the books to the goodies. Most of the fights were around the question of who was getting all the privileges. Despite the chaos it was a lot of fun. The adventures got more daring every year. After a few weeks of this chaotic loud living, summer would come to an end and with the first spray of the monsoons, I would return back to Delhi and settle down to a quieter life. The cousins wrote letters to each other. The letters were all about how we would be spending the next summer. Despite the chaos, we all missed being together and waited impatiently for the year to go by. We would make notes of stories we would need to share with the cousins when we would meet. By the time we did, those stories seemed meaningless. Then one day, it all started to change. Grandma passed away and then grandpa followed. Then some aunts. The cousins moved out to different countries as they went to college and started to work. And then the other day, there was feeling of deja vu. I knew I had seen it all before. Except that this time it was multiple generations in the workplace.