Na ghar ka Na Ghat(kopar) Ka

Being a guest in one’s own home is sure a strange feeling. After living there for 18 odd years, I was phased out of the home life slowly. First, during the four years of engineering college, I did feel like I was a citizen of Kolkata and a denizen of Trichy. I had no qualms about it – with my identity. I felt equally at home in both places. But having spent one year in a management school (with three weeks at home, and that too not at a stretch), I am beginning to think otherwise. As an undergraduate I used to spend at least 3-4 months at home (in an year). The streets (and surprisingly, the street food) of Kolkata are not anymore taken for granted. The names of places I used to frequent daily take that wee bit longer to recollect. It’s like a glass window has gone frosted. Memories become a little hazy, and changes to the static setting in the dream also make it that much more different from the Kolkattan identity that I have in mind.

To set my disillusioned mind to rest, I thought that I would reconnect with my city by taking a trip on the Metro. The fare remained the same (thankfully, yaay) and so did the auto ride. But there again, it wasn’t the shabby old black and yellow auto, snaking its way through the traffic like a cockroach. The Go Green movement had cast its eye on this as well. The sound from the exhaust pipe was no longer the same – it was again a very different sound. The previous auto had a very discrete sound (phut-phut-phut). Kind of like when you bounce a plastic ball on the floor, the last two seconds that it dribbles. The moment the auto driver used to let go of the clutch, the pulse would always used to race for a bit, as the engine would threaten to die out for a micro-second before going on to the reassuring phut-phut. With the CNG equipped autos, the phut-phut gave way to a drone, I felt. Very sturdy and no chance of an adventure. Not even worth giving a thought.

Even the Metro train ride was somewhat different. Picture this – getting off at the penultimate station during peak hours. It was a very important status given to all passengers disembarking as the ones already on the platform used to eke out a thin space for themselves on the other side of the platform so that the burgeoning and endless stream of passengers pouring out the compartment. I was almost as though they were making a human wall to felicitate the people coming out (Like what you see when you come out of an airport – only difference being, there used to be no placards here). With the extension of the Metro line, even that distinction was not received. As soon as the train rolled to a halt, there was a queue of people fighting to get in. A far cry from the erstwhile VIP status!

Even at home, I tried my best to be as lazy as possible so as to get into some sort of trouble. Sadly, there was none as the feeling was that I was at home for only a few days, I should be given all the laad (attention). Meals were centered around what I wanted.

Though home is home is always home, this time it did feel a little different. Not sure for the better or worse, though. However, I do know that I realized that I did not feel like a true Kolkattan this time. On delving further, I do not feel like a Gurgaonite nor a Trichy-ka-erstwhile-anna. With this flight, I have now travelled to and fro all metro stations over the last 20 months. I feel a feeling of belongingness with all cities now. I am a part-Kolkattan, part-Gurgaonite,part-Trichhite and now part-Bambaiwalla. You can take a DevD out a city, but you can’t take a city out a DevD. It keeps adding to who DevD actually is.