Everything looked the same, or was it because I wanted it to look so? The same blue door framed the house, the same yellow wall outlined the 'Mehta' residence, and the same blue scooter parked at its usual spot, nothing had changed really, had it?

The door (which was now scuffed and the corners had started to disappear) creaked as I knocked on it, the sound echoing eerily in the stillness of the afternoon. On receiving no response, I knocked again, my knuckles brushing against the weathered wood. This time the knock elicited a reaction from inside, the sound of footsteps from within grew louder, and the door creaked open to reveal Mrs. Mehta. Her face though now aged, was as kind and graceful as ever.

"Aamir! What a beautiful surprise my child." She exclaimed; her eyes sparkling with joy. She ushered me inside, the familiar warmth of the house enveloping me. The living room was just as I remembered it, with its cozy furniture, framed photographs of us, and the faint scent of incense lingering in the air.

"How have you been? Don’t you get any food to eat?" Mrs. Mehta chided, her voice filled with love and concern.

"I've been good Ammi, just busy with work at the hospital," I replied, glancing around the room. "It feels like nothing has changed here, but at the same time, everything feels different."

She nodded, her expression softening. "Time has a way of doing that, doesn't it? Everything stays the same, yet we see it differently as we age and mature."

Her words transported me back to my childhood.

The summer of 2002 was unusually scorching in Gujarat, the sun beating down mercilessly on the dry earth. Yet, for little Aamir, the oppressive heat was the least of his worries. The Godhra riots had turned his once peaceful world into a nightmare.

One fateful afternoon, as violence erupted in their streets, Aamir's parents who were forced to abandon their burning house, tried to shield themselves from the perpetrators. But destiny had other plans. Amidst the screams and smoke, they were struck down whilst on the run, their bodies collapsing against the yellow wall that framed a blue door. Whilst little Aamir thought his feeble cries for help were lost in the pandemonium, the blue door had miraculously opened and Mr and Mrs Mehta, rushed out to help them. The couple had known Aamir since he was a baby, often watching him play in the courtyard with his parents. The sight of the small boy lying next to the bodies of his lifeless parents, trembling and alone, melted their hearts.

Without a second thought, Mr. Mehta grabbed his blue scooter, while Mrs. Mehta wrapped a shawl around Aamir's frail body, trying to comfort him as best she could. They knew they had to act fast; as the streets were dangerous. Flames licked at the edges of buildings, and angry mobs roamed the streets. Mr. Mehta weaved through the chaos with determination, his mind set on one goal: saving Aamir, which they did. The journey to the hospital had been perilous, but their courage and determination had saved Aamir's life.

In the days that followed, the Mehtas arranged for Aamir to stay with them by legally adopting him, their home becoming a refuge for the traumatized boy. As the city slowly began to heal, Aamir found solace in the love and care of the Mehtas and had learned to smile again. As Aamir grew into a young man, the Mehtas sent him to the city to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor.

As we sat down in the living room, reminiscing about the old days, sharing stories and laughter Mrs. Mehta's presence was warm and comforting, a reminder of good times. Mr. Mehta had passed away three years ago due to a heart attack and his presence was vastly missed. The yellow walls of their residence, once a backdrop to tragedy, now stood as a symbol of hope and resilience for me. The blue scooter, which stood outside the house daily, had become a symbol of a journey that had saved my life. The house, the door, the wall, the scooter – they were all echoes of my past, my flicker of hope.

As I prepared to leave, Mrs. Mehta walked me to the door. "Don't be a stranger, Aamir. This place will always be your home and I will forever remain your Ammi."