To and from the city of pilgrims

Whenever or wherever we arrive, we are only moments away from departure. And that is life. [Photo by Catarina Carvalho on Unsplash]

A journey can’t be defined by the destination and in this very spirit, we keep traveling. From place to place. From people to people. From friends to friends. From memories to memories. And sometimes, we end up with new memories despite having old friends among some people who belong to a place more than we do. This is what I grasped from my recent weekend trip to Nashik.

I haven’t been to that vineyard of a city in a long time. I was there from the summer of 2002 to the summer of 2005. So, yes, there was a strong element of nostalgia attached to this fascinating sojourn. One of my closest friends, who also happens to be one of the finest humans, was getting married. A double whammy. What made the whole affair super-interesting was my decision to travel by train instead of taking a direct flight. Nashik doesn’t have a commercial airport so I’d have had to fly to Bombay and then catch a train to Nashik. But then, I wasn’t keen on visiting home as my leave request was quite short so I went ahead with the 22-hour-one-way journey encapsulating Friday and Monday. And here are some of my experiences and observations and assumptions and biases.

• Train journeys are more fulfilling as you get to meet so many remarkable characters who are more than happy to share their stories with absolute strangers. You can’t expect such candour on a flight. That said, it can get annoying enough to test your patience, especially when the train takes long halts.
• On my way to Nashik, I had the honour of sharing the compartment with army youth, mostly hailing from Haryanvi families and one couldn’t help but notice their snarky sense of humour laced with insults invoking mothers and sisters. They were about to be away from home until next January so I guess it was alright.
• Since this was my first train trip through the so-called cowbelt states, I was appalled to witness the fruition of certain myths firsthand. Noticed way too many young pretty women with not-so-pretty kids. These ladies were extremely quiet, to the point, that their husbands/in-laws decided what they’ll have for lunch/dinner. So much so it appeared they were basically child-bearing machine for the families they married into.
• Noticed several villages on the UP-MP route that boasted of houses that didn’t bother to turn off the door-lights even during daytime. Weird wastage of electricity.
• The last time I traveled on a blue train was in 2013 and most of these trips bound southward and I can safely suggest that folks from the Hindi belt have little regard for hygiene and cleanliness in public transport. The saddest part was to observe grandfathers/fathers encouraging their wards to chuck plastic through the windows of the running train. And this was in reserved compartments. Imagine the state of conduct in the general dabba.
• It’s during journeys like these you realize that India is much wider than our pseudo-idea about it. Diversity might be everywhere but the unity is visible only in our perseverance. The problems facing us has more to do with our lack of education and overdose of irresponsibility. How exactly is it the 19-year-old boy’s fault when he was forced to marry a 17-year-old girl from his village and is now burdened with three kids who are asked to leave the reserved compartment because the TC will obviously harass him if they are caught without the proper paper?
• Speaking of ticket checkers, all of them looked at me but none checked my tickets. Also, they sounded rude with the seemingly illiterate fellow passengers.
• Anyway, Nashik has changed a lot in some manners and it has remained the same in many. Roads have gotten better, trees have disappeared, with more and more buildings sprouting everywhere, and there is a newfound spunk.
• If you are ever in that city full of temples, do have misal pav. No match whatsoever.
• Although this was my first Bihari wedding, there was a strong Maharashtrian influence in the wedding rituals. A splendid example of how migrants in our country assimilate with the place they now belong to. Also, I participated in my first ever baraat; quite an experience in loudness and colour.
• Except for one, all my engineering friends are now either married or married with kid. It’s strange to see how idiots like us could somehow mature to become reasonably decent people.
• Since I was being a rebel, I encouraged myself to have not only coffee but also tea (inside the train) and suffered a bit (gastro-wise) but it was totally worth the company I was having (both in and out of the train).
• I need to learn how to drive. It has become less of a pride and more of a handicap.
• My humble polytechnic college in Nashik, where I earned my 3-year diploma, has grown wonderfully. The campus looks flush. The hostel has gotten bigger. There is a separate building for library. Ours was the first Electronics batch (2002–2003) and today there is a separate building for our department.
• Our favourite bhel-jalebi shop at the roadside is gone now; it’s replaced by an unpopular eatery. The greatest tragedy since the death of chivalry.
• Vinay’s daughter Aadhya is the cutest thing ever. Doesn’t cry at all and slips into everyone’s arms with a smile. Thought you should know.
• On my way back, I met an amazing 90-year-old man who hailed from Agra. He was a poet back in his days and spoke with a bit of difficulty. However, his mind was sharp and he dropped some lovely couplets in shudh Hindi about love, family, nation and corruption. He was 18 when Gandhiji passed away. I asked him if he’d seen him. He replied, “Yes, he inspired us to think of our country first and ourselves later.”

I can go on and on about this 4-day trip, half of which was spent on train, but let’s just say that I am quite overwhelmed at this point. After reaching home last night at 10.30, I went to sleep by 11.15 and woke up straight at 6 — without any interruption. Now, that’s the kind of bliss I chase but obviously don’t deserve.