Lost In Transit

Notes from When I'm on the move

13th Nov 2009

On the highway heading to town to attend the wedding of someone who is a stranger to me. With Nancy Ajrams sweet voice in my ears making me miss home I passed by:

-the road to the airport,

-a seven star hotel,

-a line of government Chawls which had the exact same paper star n spangle lanterns- stale leftovers from diwali, hanging in every section of every floor of every building.

-A family of 4 with identical looking boys wearing the same thick glasses on a scooter, whose personality differences were already evident somehow.

-A line of stranded-by-the-roadside foreigners with their luggage sitting on the pavement, something that I’ve never done in all these years of living here (don’t they know how dirty it is?).

-A neighbourhood of 3 and 4 story slums that looked way bigger than our tiny 1 BHK apartment.

-Someone who had passed away being carried through the streets of the land of the living one last time in a flower shroud by loved ones on their shoulders,

-a sign just a few meters away from this procession, on a barbed wire fence above a large cement wall that said-Jesus Never Fails,

-the road to Pune that I wish I was on instead of the one I was already hurtling over in my air conditioned car.

-A run down motorbike with flashing neon blue wheels,

-Political posters everywhere of false practiced smiles that tried to look benevolent but failed when your mind and imagination could sense the sinister intent lurking behind them.

-Tiled government Shauchalays and permit bars with inappropriate names of gods and goddesses.

-Billboards that made lofty declarations and amusing diversions dotting the night sky line.

-An Apna Country Bar next to an Apna Bazaar Co-op that looked smaller than my neighbourhood grocery store as well as its next door neighbour that had a store front display of identical glass bottles filled with alcohol in all sorts of colours to attract a thirsty passer by.

-Permit bars and resto bars of all shaped and sizes, some with fancy glass and metal exteriors with doormen to let you in, while others just making do with raggedy curtains fluttering to reveal glimpses of their dimly lit interiors.

-A stall selling ‘funeral materials’ called Aatma Shanti (literally translated Aatma means soul and Shanti is peace)

-A man in an orange shirt with an empty handcart after a day of trade making 4 roads of traffic come to a standstill while he slowly pushed at his own speed, shaking his hips without a care in the world while motorists and taxis honked impatiently to hurry up.

The world is an interesting place really; you don’t have to leave your city to realize that. You just have to look a little harder to pick out all the interesting details your mind blanks out over the years. And the wedding wasn’t that bad either.