I grew up in goregoan…..a place near film city ……from nursery to 10th standard….I have almost been for most of my life so far there…
Now I have moved to a different place which is about 2-3 hours away from that place . It’s been about 6 years since we shifted…
All my relatives are back in there, hence every festival demands our presence at this 3-hour away destination…
Like the usual, us frowning over the plan of the 3-hour travel & visiting every house as if we were some party workers canvasing for votes; finally coming up with the resolve of leaving & sacrificing one Sunday in the name of “goregoan” …..becomes quite of an out station trip for us!!
This, today was one such “sunday”.
All geared up & postponing bath and cleaning up some left over mess ….the usual military regime Sunday started taking shape into the ‘Out station Sunday’ finally when we left the house by 11….then decided to have sandwich for breakfast…..as usual dad being extra enthusiastic got bhajias & khandvi too.
At about 1130 our journey started…..we, prepared as if we were going to a different state , all stuffing food in the car …..then having occasional halts to hog again…..then the “chai(tea)-break” of course …….slowly passed through the old routes….
Once again those streets brought back memories of yester years…..the school…friends….place everything…..every signal held a special moment & every corner had a memory…
After moving out of here frankly I didn’t miss this place much as I was already in love with my new place…..or maybe I just pretended ?!
Nostalgia trickled through every spot recollected…..things were afresh in my memory…
This place had given me soo much…..I didn’t have much to give back..
After a few mandatory family visits we decided to visit the temple well….(compulsory parents thing everytime)..
Over the past years every time I visited the place …..it used to be a weekend & I couldn’t meet my teachers…..it’s a very sentinel thing….seeing your school…teachers …..maybe just a thanks was what I felt like rendering….
I just entered the temple….was doing pradakshina (taking rounds).The school ground was next to the temple.
I saw my ex principals there!!
What a moment!
I ran from the temple like a 5 year old with the same enthusiasm & desperation……I got to see atleast two of my teachers on a sunday….”Sheer dumb luck” as it goes….
The watchman …..the villain of my life…”You cannot go inside….it’s a Sunday!” ….
I ran to the ground gate…..she didn’t identify me at first….but I guess the desperation showed up pretty well…..she called me inside nevertheless …..
She recollected my face…..I was dumbstruck …..such a nostalgic moment…..telling your teachers you are what you are today because of them!Wow!!
We chatted for a while & one picture…..
I guess that would suffice me for some while now! :’)
Back to the temple an old acquaintance…..uncle of our tamil Brahmin sangam…..I greeted him with joy…..then the temple poojari who had been there since I was a baby in hand…
The fondest of memories of me with my grandmom were the evening walks to temple…..leaving & picking me and my cousin from the school…..we were more like friends…..I admired her for how she was ….I loved her alot.
She is no more but all these places me-established the scene of a 5-year old me holding my paati’s(grandmom’s) hand & walking these roads…
Neither would she come back nor the days….
Golden days of a beautiful flower they were!
The petals withered away….slowly & carefully I picked up each one of those & preserved them in between the pages of the book of life ….
Like petals of rose….dry but fragrant….those petals remind me of where I belonged….how I started….& mainly of all those who were by my side.
Now going back home…..in the taxi…I pen down what’s dearest to my heart……
“The withered petals of my past,
Dry but fragrant,
Fonder to my heart,
Than anything ever told….”
Image courtesy- unknown