When you come from a part of the world with no flight routes and where it is almost impossible to assemble rail tracks, you kinda get more excited about going home.
I’m home at the moment and just recently, had to take one of the most adventurous journey ever. Every year, it had been my utmost duty to reach home once a year in one piece and come back the same piece, but obviously my mom lets me go only after i gain a few weight and sack my bank account with well, you know how it goes.
My college is set in Coimbatore, which lies not quite in the heart, but somewhere in the lungs of Tamil Nadu. A totally whole new language (Tamil) is spoken here and you tend to lose your patience once in a while because apparently, your brain has big plans to let you learn to speak the language but not the accent so that even when you say what you think you know, the locals don’t get what you mean.
This odyssey started by catching a bus to the next city, where I had to catch my flight to another city, where i had to catch a different flight again, to go to another city to catch this train and then finally hire a taxi to reach home. For a north eastern Indian, going home requires patience. And food. Lots of food.
On my commute, I had to pass through miles and miles staring into the unknown bliss, lingering through millions of signboards staring right back at me, scorning and making me feel intimidated with every one I pass, feeling stuffed and satisfied because I just cant read them Tamil letters. So its 3 am and when you’re still inside a thing that has been moving for hours and hours, everything seems a lot more annoying than they were in the first place. Even past experiences tend to bob up and to make situations more annoying than they already are, someone decides that suddenly, they have the coolest playlist in the entire world and justice would be served only if every living soul hears it. I reached Chennai in the wee hours of the night and had to choke on the humidity. I cant believe how anybody can even survive there and still wake up everyday worrying about these people. My skepticism continued to grow when i got to the airport and saw everyone sleeping because the baggage screening machines were closed for the night. I had to join the rest ofthe sleeping crew and slept on top my luggage.
Finally at at 6 am my flight commenced for departure and I arrived at Kolkata where i felt much closer to home as soon as I heard people speaking in Hindi. An hour, another hour, a couple more and my flight to Guwahati commenced for departure.
Did i mention i wasn’t travelling alone all this while? Well yeah. But that doesn’t change anything much. The journey drained away both our sugar levels, leaving us barely alive to even talk to each other. We zonked out at her apartment for a while and woke up like freshly sliced cucumbers ready for battle.
But it wouldn’t be fair for the forces of nature to have the last laugh still. We kinda got into a petty fight inside the train with two other passengers over whose seat was supposed to be in the lower berth and ended up sleeping on the upper berth. Is it just me or do even well adjusted people feel an inner critic sometimes? Oh well, I was just in a rush to get home. I reached Dimapur and then finally home, Kohima.
Its pretty cold here still. But who doesn’t love the cold? i dont wanna go back. argh!