My travel memoirs

12 Jul

This was written a year ago when my son was 2 years old…

Before the reader makes the assumption that this is the travel memoir of a cute globe trotting person, let me make it clear that, that assumption is not precise. Well, the cute part is very accurate, but the globe trotting part is not. This cute female is not really done trotting her own country fully; so, well, the globe trotting is the farthest from my mind now.

Coming back to the topic, my travel memoirs start with exiting the Olympia Tech park, fondly known as OTP among the inhabitants. This was after a minor tiff with my dear, darling husband(hereafter referred to as DDH) over the phone and a couple of text messages. So, the married readers (perhaps I should say female married readers) can understand my mood. I was not traveling in my supposedly favorite Santro car which I earlier intended to. Oh, the pleasures of bargaining and traveling in city auto-rickshaws is just about to follow.

As expected, when I enquired near Gate1 of OTP, the auto-rickshaw driver told me it would cost me Rs.150 to reach my home. This was almost double the nominal price. So, when I started bargaining with him (oh, this was also expected by him), he said, “Maddam, Petrol price high” in English. Either he thought I was a very stylish North Indian or he was also the effect of a very sub-prime globalization by the US. LoL. Did he know by the way that $700bn package dint pass through and the prior to that the fuel prices did dip a little bit. Oh, well, I decided to walk a few meters and get another auto. And this another guy asked Rs.170. This was definitely more than the double I usually give. So, I decided to cross over to the other side where corporation buses (sometimes) halt to pick up the stranded (mostly) OTP inhabitants and drop them near the Guindy railway Station.

Now, comes the most difficult part of crossing over. Usually there is one traffic policeman who has to control both the sides of the road. The traffic lights which usually used to be there, has been removed since a few months ago. My pedestrian readers and perhaps those readers who perform the Herculean task of crossing over that junction would understand how it feels like to do this at 7 30 PM at the heights of heavy traffic.

Well, after much struggling and stopping a few vehicles and receiving cute tamizh cusses from a few more vehicle riders and drivers, a bunch of us crossed over to the other side with hopes of getting a cheaper auto-rickshaw.

Now, whom am I kidding? There were atleast 100 OTP  waiting for cheaper auto-rickshaws, share auto-rickshaws, those stray buses whose drivers had a kind heart to think enough to stop to pick us up. And wait goes on… and on… and on… (Are you guys reminded of the Titanic song of the heart going on and on.. ??? LoL… ) The only thing which stopped me from deciding to go back and getting that Rs. 170 auto-rickshaw was crossing over which I had to do of that busy junction and of course all those sweet cusses which I had to receive again if I ever crossed over.

After a very short wait of 25 minutes, I got a very cheap auto-rickshaw for Rs.120. And I thanked all the Gods I knew. And, I happily came home J No, wait, I too soon started rejoicing my good luck, because before I could even proceed beyond CIPET a Regional Transport officer stopped our kind auto rickshaw driver and demanded his license and some other documents which I little understood. And he was asked to wait for some reason. Well, I only have so much patience. I got down out of it and decided to flag down a bus. And lucky me, succerded in doing it. Now, starts the pleasurable part of foot board traveling at the peak hour of 7 45 PM. I really wonder how the college guys do it? How did Actor Madhavan do it in the movie RUN? And still succedded in “sighting” his sweetheart Meera jasmine? I mean, did his heart beat faster because of standing on the foot board or because Meera Jasmine was also “sighting” him? I don’t understand. Perhaps, you need to get used to this, huh? To sight effectively? Oh, now, don’t get me wrong. I have no intentions of “sighting” anyone. I am a very happily married woman to a very nice man who thinks the sun rises and sets on me and me only. But I couldn’t stop wondering about all those movies where the hero of the movie (or in this case, heroine of the blog/write up) stands on the foot board and violins and flutes start playing in the background. Ok, the conductor’s loud booming voice “Guindy, Guindy, Guindy” put an end to my filmy musings.

Guindy, here I come J My journey is almost over. And you guys are all about to be spared from reading more. I walk to the other side of the station with hopes of getting the auto-rickshaw from the auto-stand there, with a vow to myself to not ever bargain with an auto-rickshaw driver, pay him whatever he asks and just reach home.

Now, neither are the readers lucky (my blog doesn’t end here) nor am I, because to my almost comical surprise there are no auto-rickshaws in the stand there. I kept wondering if the auto stand got shifted to some other nearby place and enquired the same to the “potti” shop owner. He said, no, right now all the autos have gone for “savari”, Maddam.

Now, I am going to disclose a pretty minor secret to my patient readers. I am an avid trekker (pre-marriage life, ofcourse), a long distance biker (that’s what they say in English for people who ride bicycles for long distance just for the sake of it and enjoys doing it.). I once trekked all the way from Mysore to sakleshpur and once in SatKol, Himalayas. And a few times in and around Tamil Nadu. Those are very interesting write ups which I ll share later. I had been a very much an outdoorsy tom-girl, back then. So, I decided, to take this opportunity to trek back home instead of taking that 2nd auto-rickshaw. And kept texting my DDH all the way from the station till I reached home. Oh, I had this immense need to vent and rant about my plight to someone, and who else to vent to than the person who actually almost put me to it (by not giving me the car). And now as I type all this, I have this nagging suspicion that my DDH secretly enjoyed my almost comical text messages. And I realized that my skills were not rusty at  all. I pretty much enjoyed my walk back home.

Little do we notice our surrounding while traveling through a vehicle. When we walk and really do pay attention to our surrounding all the mundane things of a normal, regular life comes into the picture. For instance, I never knew a water pump existed at one particular junction. And a fruit shop, a vegetable vendor, a very nice posh apartment building, a pediatrician, oh my, how many things I came across… and almost stopped texting that lucky guy. This wonderful trek was turning out into a really rediscovery trail. Rediscovery not only the road I travel through everyday, but also rediscovery of something supposedly profound in life.

 That precisely is about karma. Well, whether reader believes in karmic happenings or more commonly called as fate and destiny, I would like to mention that I am the victim of a very funny karma of always having a very incidental journey wherever I travel. It could be just 500 meters to the vegetable shop or it could be as long as traveling to my work place from home. And today was no different.

 And I in all my wondrous (is it even a word?) trek cum jog, forgot the fact that I was feeling quite ecstatic in the evening when my dear friend Viji and I were sharing a very oily samosa and rich creamy hi-caloric cake. I had actually counted the number of calories and thereby weight gain I would be having from all that. This puny figure also needs to put on some flesh and start looking like a mother, doesn’t she? Now, all of that and double the worth of calories is burnt in this almost spiritual trek to home.

 Was all that divine revelation worth burning up all that calories I painstakingly consumed?

 Well, I enter the gates of my apartment, I need to rejoice, don’t I? After all, I am about to meet the apple of my eyes, oops, rather banana of my eyes, because my 2. year old son favorite fruit is Banana.

 So, here I am, Ding Dong ! Home,. Sweet, home J Who would have thought it would take 2 hours to reach home which is in Guindy from the office which is in Guindy too.

 The sheer pleasures of entering the home of a rambunctious 2 y.o. boy was never more appealing 🙂 🙂 🙂

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3 Responses to “My travel memoirs”

  1. yuva July 30, 2009 at 11:27 am #

    Dudette! You dont have to pay any more than 50Rs to reach where you have to reach on the worst of days!!

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