A Memorable Easter Journey....

An unconfirmed train ticket to Chennai made me take a bus from Mayavaram. I was not looking for an Accela Express or TGV kind of experience when I boarded a private bus service (DTK) to Chidambaram. Nevertheless, I was in for a lot of surprises on this route that I've once travelled almost daily to get to college.

Three days before this journey, I received a call from an unknown number on my mobile who addressed me as "KD", an acronym coined and used only by my college mates. It was Kishore at the other end and I could sense affection and familiarity in his tone despite not having seen each other for 20 years. Kishore was right after me on the roll call and we took most of our exams together, both theory and practical, since he rarely attended classes. :)

I have never been fond of reunions and have no presence on Facebook or other social media platforms. And I was surprised when Kishore managed to hunt me down. I know, I sound like an anti-social person, but I have my reasons. Life has a different script for each of us and if our journey's were meant to be different then why try making our paths cross. Moreover, most reunions quickly turn into a comparison and evaluation (viva-voice) of material success that instantly kills nostalgia. 

The bus ride with complete strangers and lilting Illayaraja melodies from 1980s made the journey nostalgic. The speakers were blowing hot and cold numbers. Every alternate song was a romantic number (Kannathula vai, Keladi Kanmani, Kalyana Maalai) and those in between castigated love (Kannai Nambathey, Kadhal Kasukudhayya), which evoked the same emotions from 20 years ago making me grin.

When I was added to the Whatsapp group, I posted a disclaimer of a sort. "I don't have anything in common with all of you here expect our shared past: 4 year education. Silence prevailed for sometime, a few recognized my presence and pinged me in private to know a bit more about my journey. To make the connect easier, I shared a short paragraph about my journey of life  and attached a recent picture to show them the ravages of time. Did the initial euphoria vanish? Will i feel stupid and disappointed like a school boy chasing a plastic bag taken away by the wind?

Nothing had changed on this route; rural South India seemed to be left behind in time. 

The demographic and economic composition wasn't any different from 20 years ago in the bus. There were students, elderly men, kids and women who still wore burqa and adorned their oiled and plaited hair with kanakambaram.

I'm not too fond of going in search of lost time and friends. I always had a set of friends who I sat besides in college and today I was checking out their display pictures to see if I could find or identify any of them there. Some of their display pictures had their families, while some had their kids. Unlike them, I didn't have any significant other(s) to show off as my achievement or attachment. 

To be fair and square, I changed my display picture with my recent image before I pinged a few of them privately. 

Unlike the cities which grow three dimensionally, the stretch on either side of the road continue to remain as green fields. Sirkazhi remains a sleepy town, Thaikkal remains a hotspot for weaving sleeping mats and the roaring engine along the 1.5 km long bridge across the Colleroon bridge took me back to my past.

Friendship is like peeing on yourself...Everyone can see it, but only you get the warm feeling that it brings. (Came across on Twitter). Even during my college days, I had only clicked and connected with a few in my class, but sadly I wasn't in touch with any of them. So, what is the point in joining a Whatsapp group with people who mutually ignored each other. But, before I could convince myself on this failed bid to reconnect, Vinoth Kumar, a dear classmate called me from Malaysia and conversation lasted whole 40 minutes. 

40 minutes still continues to be the ride time between Vaitheeswaran Kovil and Chidambaram. And the price of a bus ticket between Mayavaram and Chidambarm is just Rs. 18 for 36 km ride. In 1997, it was Rs. 12; a meagre 50% increase in 20 years and same melodies continue to play in the busses. Rural India seemed to be untouched as much by fast paced life as by inflation.

I used to travel every other weekend to see my grandparents and today I was making the same journey, but my bag didn't have any books and mind had no thoughts about assignments or exams. My grandmother got up earlier than usual to prepare my lunch for the trip. What keeps people connected is unconditional love and the giving spirit.

As the bus approach South Car Street, I dialed Kamal Kumar. He arrived within minutes on his Hero Honda, not the same one he drove from 20 years ago. He picked me up at the corner of South Car Street and we drove towards his house. Had he not picked me up, I would have still managed to find his house where I spent the nights before my exams. 

Close to 120 of us were in the 1993-97 batch of Chemical Engineering. 3 out of 6 women are PhDs, a dozen of them continue to work and teach in the same field, while many of us have found solace in alternative professions and industry verticals. Sadly, four reached their final destination in their prime. 

 

What I couldn't fathom or measure is lost time. As I entered his house I was on the look out for his rowdy pet Tipu. Over a cup of tea and snacks, I glanced at the wall to discover his father was no more. Before I could realize his palpable absence Kamal introduced his two boys, reintroduced his mother, wife and brother Sunil after 15+ years. Had I made this journey 5 months ago, I would have seen his father. Nevertheless, Kamal has imbibed his prudent investment principles and philanthropy and now leads the family in his absence.

My last wish before leaving the town was to get a glimpse of the college of engineering, which was recently taken over by the Government of Tamil Nadu. The new flyover over the rail tracks, Mariyappa Theatre, Polytechnic, Distance Education building was all familiar, but a departmental store in place of Srinivasa theatre. The 500m stretch between the theatre and Chemical Engineering Department used to be empty, but now I had to replace my old memory with new buildings including 5 ATMs across the Department. I stood in front of the Department staring back into the past and reminding myself of the laws of Thermodynamics and design equations of a distillation column. None of these seem to have had an impact on my life.

What made me smirk, while still in awe was Lallu tea shop and University Xerox adjoining the Department. None of us worked like Modi in a tea shop, but we swarmed this tea shop between classes and where we bonded over  tea and varki, while our notes were getting photocopied. Before time vanished in front of my eyes, I pulled out my camera and took some pictures to share in the Whatsapp group and made my nostalgia contagious.

While Kamal wanted me to catch the 11.30 am air-conditioned bus to Chennai, I delayed the trip and took a regular bus. The warm wind and music fanned my memories from the past. Relishing the chapathi and Bindi subzi packed by Kamal's wife, I got ready to catalog this emotional trip listening to Jency crooning Idhayam Poguthey on my phone.

Though I have done so many journeys to Chidambaram, but this one after 20 years seemed very special. The journey released so much of Dopamine in a short period of time that I felt difficult to handle. And making this journey on Easter was definitely an opportunity to renew my ties and rediscover the forgotten tree of friendship. Isn't Easter all about a new journey of that of resurrection and renewing hope?