My small h[e]aven!!
As the train came to a screeching halt, there was a rush of the passengers trying to get out. I got down wondering as always why it is so crowded here. I turn around when I hear the familiar cough of my Dad as he walks towards me with a smile and the newspaper in his hand. As we walk past the crowd out in the open air, the familiar smell and sights welcome me and automatically a small smile plays on my lips as I inhale the Coimbatore air.As I sit in the car, complaining to my dad that he has put on an extra pound and chiding him for not going for his regular walks, we take the same road that the auto driver used to take for dropping a handful of brats to school. I can vividly remember us laughing out loudly while tapping our hands in unison as we played “Who stole the cookies from the cookies jar??” The auto driver hollered desperately when one of us got excited and popped our heads out.
The sun slowly peeped out as we passed the Gandhipuram bus stop, the road was unnaturally empty and devoid of the usual hustle-bustle that surrounds the area during rush hour. I look at the buses and remember the innumerable times I have waited here to get a “straight” bus to college, always cursing the crowd that made such a simple task as boarding a bus an absolutely mammoth ordeal. The best pastime during such long waits was to observe different people standing alone and in groups, making up stories of who they were, what they were doing and where they were heading. Of course, the case is completely different when I had company. Then its time to catch up with the latest gossip of Bollywood, cricket stars, lecturers and other friends, often so engrossed in conversation that we even miss the “straight” bus we were waiting for and end up taking two buses.
My Dad updates me with the latest happenings in the city, while I silently note the new glossy shops in the area, wondering what happened to the petrol bunk that once existed, the divider on the road that was’nt there the last time I came. As he made a quick turn to our colony, we passed the grocery shop in our colony where I often frequented for potato chips and chewing gum. My dad honked once and my Mom came out eagerly to open the gate. My mom asked me the same question she asks always..”What took so much of time? The train was late??” And I winked and gave the same answer…”Daddu and his slow driving!!” My mom immediately started her exaggerated anecdotes of Daddu and his reluctance to press the accelerator while my Dad started on Mummy’s constant comments on “how to drive” while sitting in the passenger seat. I laughed as I entered inside with the same feeling I always get when I come to Coimbatore.. when I come home. The feeling of nostalgia… A sense of belonging!!!!
And I guess this is what makes me go all out and defend this city whenever anything is spoken about it. I remember always teasing my Mom about the “mallu-mallu” bond. If my mom is introduced to any new person and she discovered that he/she was a mallu, then there would be an extra warmth and excitement in her voice. Her smile would go bigger followed immediately by the quick questions about the person’s whereabouts and family. Which in turn would lead to the discovery that the person is after all a relative. Some uncle’s, grandfather’s, sister’s, husband’s cousin’s grandchild’s daughter. I always wondered why she was so partial to Mallus. But today, when I’m in Chennai and I meet a Coimbatorean, I realize I’m no different from my Mom (though I don’t find any relatives for sure). You can see my eyes sparkle with the same excitement, the same special warmth as my smile widens more than ever to greet somebody from my hometown.
Seeing my excitement, I have been often questioned by my colleagues and other friends on what makes Coimbatore so special. And then I find my answers inadequate. How can I explain to them, the many moments I have walked along the Trichy Road to KG theatre to watch a movie with friends on the last day of exams. Or sitting in one of the fast food centers and eating pani puri and masala puri before going for tution classes for 12’th. Or walking along crosscut road while arguing with my sis about which shop to enter. Or the frantic petitions to God as we go to temples just before and after the exams:-). Or the times we all took off in our bikes just to hang out. Or the times we went from shop to shop trying to get as many sponsors for out Techno fest. Or the times I got screamt at by my mom for keeping my room messy. Or the arguments I had with my dad over who should be made the captain of Indian Cricket team. Or the times I sat with my friends in one of our houses and wondered where we would be 3 years hence. (I can’t believe we still do this). As much as I argue that Coimbatore is kewl coz of the climate and the people there (which is true of course:-)), It is special more so coz in the city’s many streets and little turns, there still remains the fragrance of my childhood, the many dreams that we had cherished, and the many pranks that we played, the many moments that we shared. The sound of laughter still resonates as memories still remain.
posted by sreeshma @ 6:00 am
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