Experiencing Nostalgia

On Saturday, while taking a walk around the new office premises, I chanced upon PMT bus no. 78, that goes to Marketyard. The nearby bus-stop beckoned me to alight the bus and encouraged me to make a surprise visit to the place of my old residence. So as if under some trance, I sprinted towards the bus-stop and boarded the bus just before it could leave.

I occupied a window-seat and asked the conductor to give me a ticket to Marketyard bus depot. As the bus raced towards Marketyard via Swargate (recently rechristined to Rajashri Shahu Maharaj Bus Sthanak), I could already sense waves of memories, representing the past decade, rushing towards the shores of my mind.

In a matter of minutes, my destination arrived.
As I alighted the bus, the sight of the depot and the familiar odour of diesel, reminded me of the endless hours I had spent here waiting for bus no.41, bus no.11, and bus no. 140 during my school and college days.

The area, which more than a decade ago, wore a deserted look, has now undergone a sea change. A variety of new shops and stores have now mushroomed in the vicinity thanks to people purchasing flats and moving into the sprawling Gangadham complex. The cemented road connecting Bibvewadi and Kondhwa is now the life-line of the area, supporting the numerous businesses that have sprouted on both sides of the by-pass. Housing complexes, hair-cutting saloons, ice-cream shops, video parlours, boutiques, fast-food centers, restaurants, general stores, chemical shops, garages and dispensaries lining the road not only highlight the commercial value of the place but also indicate the changing life-style of people living in the area.

So as I cruised along the road with wonder and amazement, my eyes tried to spot the shops I used to visit. I wondered, is this the same road on which, I went for regular-evening walks with my brother, discussing the events at school and college and pondering over the uncertain future.
I carried my thoughts forward into the compound of my old residential building. The boys playing in the verandah reminded me of the post-homework hours that I had spent here kicking football and playing galli-cricket.

My recollections were interrupted by a familiar voices saying - Desai-ncha mulga aala waTtoya - Kay re kasa aahes - aaz achanak ikde kasa kay ? The voices belonged to my mother's friends - Kakus of the colony. Though they had grown older, the tone in their voices carried the same warmth and affection as before. As usual, they were sitting on the katta near the building, enjoying the evening breeze and chatting in chaste Marathi. With my arrival, they found new topics for discussion.

They started with their customary question Tu Vijay, ki Chetan ? - Amhala tar bua kadhich lakshat rahat nahin ! (Are you Vijay or Chetan ? we can never make out.). After convincing them that I am Chetan, they renewed their interrogation with questions regarding whereabouts of my dad, mom and brother. They were pleased to hear about my Dad's transfer to Goa and started telling me everything they knew about Goa ! Finally their description concluded with - Aai-la sang, kaljee karu nakoos, Goa ekdam surekh zaga aahe ! (Tell your mother, not to worry - Goa is a very beautiful place). Listening to their conversation, ideas of new Goa Tourism promotion ads started germinating in my mind.

Saying Punha bethuya - I took their leave and started walking towards our first-floor flat number 7. While climbing the steps, black-n-white images of two school-children appeared in front of me. They scrambled up the stairs, covering two-steps at a time and started ringing the door-bell of flat no.7. An angel figure opened the door taking them inside with motherly love ! On the eve of Mother's Day, I had just met my mother ! Khushi ke aansu nikal pade !

Since it was a surprise visit, I did not have keys to the flat. In a way, that was a good thing. Otherwise unlocking the door, would have opened another can of memories.

Let me save those cans for some other blog post :) and put an end to my surfing on the waves of nostalgia before the present moment turns into past ! Someone has rightly pointed out - Nostalgia is like grammar. You will always find the present tense and the past perfect !