1: Sunrise
I alight from my bus and it was still dark. I look at auto drivers buzzing around me. My destination shows 4 km away and he quotes a 100. I smile at him for I had somewhere else to go and something else in mind. I picked my bags and started walking. My new destination is only 3 km away. My love for google maps isn’t rock solid. I stop at a tea stall and confirm the route. At the end of a 30 minutes long walk laden with nostalgia, I arrive at this beating the morning sun to it. Strangely, it feels like home.
2: Anna
As I grabbled for my route in the dark, I kept looking at the statues at every circle. I had to find Anna Circle to ensure I was on the right path. I could barely recognise the faces of the leaders or their names from my side of the road. Yet I knew, I would know Arignar Anna from distance. And I was right. There he was in his signature style hands raised and his fingers indicating victory and his party’s symbol. Some stereotyping is good!
3: Empty Benches
Early mornings and empty benches are so irresistible. These seemingly empty benches are anything but empty. They are full of stories. Stories of love, stories of loss, stories of betrayal, stories of longing, stories of a zillion kind. They hoard the secrets of every passerby and I wait by them to steal some or more!
4: Homeless in Pondicherry
I am no stranger to Pondicherry. The first time I visited the place was about 15 years ago. Since then, my association with the place has been bittersweet. Every time I tried rewriting my memory of Pondicherry, it would eventually end up being bittersweet. Nevertheless, I remember being smitten by the place right from the first time. I had even considered settling down here. Although I had grown out of that idea, this solo-trip to Pondy gave me the liberty to ponder over what made me fall for it in the first place. The first thing that occurred to me was that I love the roads there, at least those roads adjoining the beaches and the areas around. I did happen to witness a lot of the city, as I kept walking about these roads, but this one thing was a repeating scene. I was surprised to see elderly people sleeping on footpaths and verandas of uninhabited houses. Not that it is an uncommon sign in Indian cities, but the number of such people seemed unusually high. This being a union territory with its own legislative assembly, one would expect better administration and social welfare. Add to it the fact that the place is now governed by one of the most decorated administrators of this country. What was even more shocking was that I found a few old women sleeping on the road right next to the Secretariat building. Its been almost a week now since I returned from Pondicherry and I can barely wrap my head around the whole thing. I believe its high time we formulate a better policy nationwide for geriatric care and not leave the elderly to the mercy of footpaths.
5: Colours
Some green, some blue, some bright, some beautiful, some with darker shades and some with dual colours. These sacred threads decorating the temple streets of Thiruvahindapuram reminded me of human bonds. No matter how sanctified they are made to sound, they are meant to keep you bound. Bound to wishes , bound of promises, bound to expectations. And no matter how sanctified they are, when it’s time, you ought to break free of them; sometimes to make way for new ones and sometimes just because you are done with it.
6: South Indian Meal
Ever wondered how does happiness smell? I think it smells like food. And what might disappointment look like? I would say it looks like a bowl of delicious looking dish that you had to forgo because you are too full. Which do you think is sweeter? An extra serving of your favourite dessert or a stolen kiss? I was going to go with the kiss, but I must say a sound sleep after a meal like this beats them both.
7: Stranger in Beach
The beach was buzzing with crowd but a lone bench was waiting for me. I sat there training my eyes to the growing darkness while trying to spot the faintest stars up on the January sky. She called out to me. “Didi, buy one of these to help me”. I told her I had no use of it, but I would still buy if she can tell me a story. She laughed and sat down in front me. She said she spoke only Hindi and asked what did I want to listen to. I asked for hers. Mother of six, four boys, two girls. Eldest is fourteen and youngest just turned a year old. Been ten years in Pondichery since she moved from Uttar Pradesh. Lucknow to Barabanki, another bus from there to village. That is how far she is from. No electricity, no jobs, no means of survival. Why all the way to Puducherry? Why did she skip all the places in between?
Sunil Mishra’s Transit Lounge
A lot of us who are bitten by the bug of wanderlust, often envy those who are privileged to travel across the skies, as a part of their job. So, it goes without saying how green I was with envy when I read the blurb of Sunil Mishra’s ‘Transit Lounge’. It reads, – “An Indian’s account of travelling to thirty countries across six continents”. The envy turns into a smile as he explains how International travel from India has drastically changed in the last 20 years.
Sunil begins the book with a disclaimer that the book is a “non-expert’s account of capturing the world-view from personal experiences of travelling” and that his observations could be “partial, in pockets and non-exhaustive”. I think it was very thoughtful of him to mention that because as Roman Payne says “Depending on the city and on the traveller, there might begin a mutual love, or dislike, friendship, or enmity. Where one city will rise a certain individual to glory, it will destroy another who is not suited to its personality. Only through travel can we know where we belong or not, where we are loved and where we are rejected.”
Sunil is an IT professional and has been travelling on business to various parts of the world. While some of his travels have been short stays, there are places he had revisited, some even multiple times over many years. So, while some accounts have limited information owing to the short stay, there are others that let you peek into these cities through various times and understand how they have changed. When you are a traveller, few of the first things that help make an impression of the place and its people are the airports, the taxis, the taxi drivers, the roads, the rails, the traffic on these and finally, the hospitality at the place of your stay. Sunil invariably talks about most of these in all his travel accounts giving you a taste of these places.
It is interesting to learn how some countries have evolved rather too quickly, while some have conveniently remained stagnant in their glorious past and some have shattered beyond recognition thanks to political turmoil and extremism. Sunil also talks about the various stereotyping that exists, how the dominant media paints an incorrect picture of the other parts of the world and how travel has made him see them all in a different light. You will also find the author constantly comparing the place that he is visiting with the state-of-affairs back at home, in India. He also records the appalling disparity in the standards of living among various countries.
The book is a mixed bag of travel tales. While few stories will introduce you to the culture or historical significance of the place, some of his stories will surely help you prepare for international travels especially to those countries with stringent and difficult immigration processes. There are stories that warn you of the fraudulent elements and there are stories that reassure you that the world is a better place than you thought. You might even get to relive the anxiety of your first travel and all those times when things went wrong with your travel plan and also those times when you got lucky.
The language of the book is free-flowing. It is an interesting and light-hearted read. While I empathize with the author’s trouble in getting a publisher, I feel the book could have used another round of editing. For a travelogue, the book is lacking in photographs, but then you must remember that some writers give you better stories than any picture will ever give you. That is true for this book as well. Also add to it, the fact that some of these stories are from before the mobile camera/DSLR era. In the words of Mark Twain, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” The learnings that Sunil talks about, at the end of his book proves how true those words are. After finishing the book, I am left with just one question – When is Sunil planning to cover the seventh continent?