Change..the inevitable

People change, things change, places change. I have changed a lot over the years, no one will believe it and even I don’t like to believe it but it’s a fact. Years back when I just stepped in my teens I was an enthusiastic traveller. All I would do is to look at dates...if it’s a holiday it’s for me. Never gave a second thought if tickets will be available or not, hotel booking is there or not, even friends are free or not. I used to have a black shoulder bag, big enough to engulf all my necessary items and small enough to be managed alone. Bag was always kept ready with bare minimum things in it so that if I had to leave in haste, I should not forget anything. That bag remained my companion for years along with a second hand camera whose model or make I don’t remember. I was a little above teenager and was not entitled for a brand new camera, no one in family ever had a hobby like mine and as often happens with strict moms, my love was considered frivolous by her. Things are very different now, I can’t step out until and unless my tickets are not confirmed. My experience in Kanyakumari made me to mend my ways; one can’t expect to arrange a room there if single. They gave me a reason: single person tend to commit suicide, I don’t know if that was real or just for fun. That mid December night made me mend my ways. So now everything has to be fixed before the voyage begins. No more adventures as far as planning is concerned. Poor black bag was dumped a few years back, camera is still lying unrepaired in some corner and as for me..I am trying to measure a corner.

For Old & Oldest of Friends..

याद कि जैसे धूप हुई है

एक एक सीढ़ी उतरी है

मन के सूने गलियारे में

गौराइया सी चहकी है

याद हुई है सांझ सुनहरी

चौबारे पर पसरी है

टुकड़ा टुकड़ा कतरा कतरा

मुंदरों पर सिमटी है

याद तुम्हारी खत का पुर्ज़ा

किसी ज़िल्द में छिपा हुआ

गीत, छन्द और भाव बिना

आडी तिरछी बिखरी है

याद हुई है मंद पवन सी

हौले हौले चलती है

भीतर बाहर वीरने में

किलकरी सीगूँजी है

A Wanderer's Dilemma

“From where do I belong” is a question I am hearing from the day I left home, its been very long and the question is a very common one. In fact when one enters the corridors of a hostel the second question asked is “where are you from” first one being “your name”? Nobody is really interested in what you study or what your hobbies are. All they want to know is your place, reason: company for travel. I personally remember I asked same thing for each and every new girl I encountered during my first few days in hostel. I used to tell everyone my grandparents place’s name, not even for a moment it occurred to me that I should tell them where my parents are. Even till date (I have long past left hostel) my hostel friends know me from my grandparents place. Ask me from where I belong and I remember grandpa’s house. Home is where your heart is, whoever said that was right. I have been to several places, once I left home it became a ritual, like the tantric of shamshan ghat who cannot miss his rituals for anything I too can’t afford to miss my yearly trip. It seems my powers will diminish if I’ll miss it. A strange, mysterious feeling captures me when I find myself on some new place, the moment I get down with my luggage life seems worthwhile. It feels as if I was alive for this day only. I prefer train to any other mode of conveyance, purpose is travel not tourism. We were taught Rahul Sankratyayan’s “ghumakkad dharm” in 7th or 8th standard. Personally I am not a fan of Rahul Sankratyayan, but his ideology was fascinating. Since when and how I became ghumakkad, I do not know. At a certain point in life you realise that you don’t belong to some particular place you belong to your memories. It could be anything, a gulmohar tree in an old house, a harsingar in a hostel compound, a quiet temple or a city where you once have been. I got second identity when I reached hostel and that was the first time in my life I felt as if I belong to a place other than grandpa’s house. A city which has no direct connection with me still remains my favourite place, a temple which changed my feelings about temples, I am yet to decide from where do I belong.

Musings

Question is “why one should travel”? If you think “why” then you should not step out at all. Yayawars don’t question their motive, they travel, no they wander. That’s why they’ve got this name. This blog is not for sedentary TV lovers, this one is for aimless wanderers. India is a country which excites you, amazes you, shocks you and sometimes even fools you. Beware. I remember once a tourist from Newzealand told me that travel in India is not tourism, it’s an experience. There can be many interpretations for a statement like this. You cross a state and everything changes from food to dresses to language even the simplest tea preparation is different. An autowallah charges you 30/- in one state and in the next one you pay 100/- for same distance and sometimes even more than that (read your luggage).

That’s all for the day. Looking forward to share with you many more exciting tales.