It is three years since my last Family Matters column. In my time I had written about a whole variety of topics relating to my own background, including the blessings of a mixed marriage and growing up multilingual.

Reflecting on our recent trip to India, which was my first as a wife and mother, I was reminded of the wealth and joy of being part of a large extended family. It was interesting to witness the effect on my husband and children.

Both my mother (German) and husband (Bulgarian) are only children, as is my father-in-law, and we therefore do not have many relatives in Europe.

The Indian family is large and close. First, second and third cousins are all considered brothers and sisters. Relatives all have a special title according to how they are related to you, (which curiously also exists in the Bulgarian culture) and they take their roles and responsibilities seriously.

As a child I was fortunate enough to visit India every other year on "home leave", thus becoming familiar with my cultural roots and forming bonds with my relatives. Our visits were quite an event and relatives would travel large distances to all congregate in the small village of Sevayatan in West Bengal, where my grandparents chose to retire after their eldest child and only daughter moved there with her husband. Me and my siblings have cherished memories of our time there and have continued to visit even after the "home leaves" ended. Both my brother and sister had been to Sevayatan with their families in recent years and now the question was: "When will Paromita introduce her family to us?"

During my previous visit to India back in 1992, the conversation among friends and relatives invariably came round to my age and lack of marital status. I tried not to take their comments to heart, but felt a little sorry for my father who was told by friends that he had failed in his duty as a father to find me a husband. Apart from an occasional good humoured, "Do you need any help finding a husband?" he never pressurised me.

As fate will have it - less than a year later I had met my husband.

This winter the time was finally right. The children were old enough to digest the impressions and keep the memories. We had the finances and we allocated one month to our very special `discover India' trip.

The first stage was about the sights and the culture (see Sofia Echo issue 4, 27 Jan - 2 Feb).

Stage two was all about meeting the relatives. In western culture this can often sound like a hellish prospect, which may also explain some of my husband's initial reservations, but he very quickly realised that there are many more lively, outgoing, and even somewhat crazy members in our family, who all went out of their way to make him feel honoured and welcome.

The big event was scheduled as a family picnic in Sevayatan on December 31, which also happened to be my son's birthday. My sister and her family joined us from Austria and my father was also visiting his sister and youngest brother.

Without wanting to draw our family tree, the family is big. My father is one of five, my grandfather was one of four and my grandmother was one of five. Somehow this whole network of `brothers and sisters' have been able to keep tabs on each other in an era long before emails and mobile phones. So there we were, in this little village in West Bengal, over 30 relatives. Everybody had a part to play, a contribution to make or a memory to rekindle. I was able to laugh with my uncle about the stroppy teenager I had been when we last met and my fondness for him was based on the fact that he was the only person who seemed to understand me at that time. Now he was so impressed to see that someone who shares his surname has published a book. (He also writes as a local correspondent for the Hindustan Times). Thirty years on, he had made the trip especially and we were able to introduce our spouses and children to each other. 

There is something lasting about these family gatherings, which gives us so much warmth, pleasure and security. They are remembered fondly by all who attend. Thirty years ago my sister and I were mere bystanders - now we were the initiators and we noticed how our children too were drawn into the same bond. Much of the new generation of cousins are aged between five and 13 (with a few older exceptions), a great age still for befriending each other. They quickly found ways to play together. Also, the older cousins took their role as "dada" (older brother) very seriously and my children are especially fond of their "Antuda" (name, plus da, to indicate respect for older brother) who had taken a lot of trouble to meet up with us during the first stage of our trip in Jaipur.

Scattered across the world, we all lead very different lives. We have had our share of misunderstandings, illnesses and tragedies. Our family ties have held us together and kept us close (at least in most cases!) regardless of distance between us or the frequency of our meetings. It is comforting to know you have a large family that stands behind you and whose love is (almost) unconditional. My father's generation and their traditional Indian family values have kept the bonds strong, for which I thank them. I am sorry for the few that do not share these values...

Now it is up to us to keep the network connected as the next generation grows up.