In Transit
Here, There, And Nowhere
Hello! And welcome back to AakashVaani! Hope you had a fairly decent start to the year. Like a bottle of cold drink, mine started with absolute boost, but quickly fizzled out. Which is not that bad, since I prefer cold drinks without all the bubbles. I am very happy to announce that AakashVaani has found a new home, Substack. I can do so much more here. I always wanted to read out these letters to you, and now I actually can. The layout, slightly more fancier than Tinyletter, is still minimal. Hope you like these new changes.
Once again, I have been thinking about cities, and which city I belong to. This thought has always bothered me for the longest. And recently, I had this realization that more than actually being somewhere, I enjoy the to-and-fro, the travel. So when I was in college, travelling to home was more fun than actually being there. In fact, what made my stay pleasant, was knowing that I’ll have to travel back to college. I have always enjoyed being in this state of transit. I don’t quite understand the peculiarity of it. For example, I would always take public transport, or choose the longest route to reach somewhere. And whenever I’d recollect being somewhere, or the time I spent there, the memory of travelling would shine strong.
I am one of those rare people who enjoys sitting at airport. One of my fond memories from college days, is taking the bus to the airport. Bangalore airport is quite far from the city, so a bus ride would give me ample amount of time and exposure to glance through the city, as I made my way out of it. I once walked all the way from my office to my hostel, which was around 8 kilometres. It’s such a blissful experience to walk through neighbourhoods and inner lanes. This experience in itself has always justified the tiring walks I have put myself through, when I could have taken a bus instead. I adore houses, especially the standalone bungalow types, amazed at the effort and resources people put in building these structures. How each house is converted into a home. And no two houses look same, because each is a product of love.
I will do anything to stretch my commute time, and hence these habits, to stay in transit. Long back, I was listening to an interview of my beloved poet Vinod Kumar Shukla. He said something that most accurately describes my feelings towards being in transit. Talking about his own fixation with transit, he described how his going is always tied to his coming. That, whenever he leaves for somewhere, he leaves with a state of returning. Only the state of returning can fulfill the state of leaving. And that’s what being in transit is for me. The distance between the two.
“Din ka khwaab bada suhana hota hai, dil ke behlaney ka bahana hota hai” ~Junaid Ahmed
The pleasant daydream is an excuse to flatter the heart
But when it comes to treading on the roads of memory, being in transit can be extremely hard. It is usually an exciting experience, to be lost on roads. I am the last person to open Google Maps. I will keep on walking till I find my way. However, I wish there was Google Maps for navigating the paths of nostalgia and the uncertainty of future. Getting lost in the memories of yesteryears is not always a fond experience. I find it as a strong indication of loosing directions. Remember, how when we loose something, our first response is: check where you last saw it.
And in this present state of transition, as I experience uncertainty, confusion, and dread, I am asking myself everyday: where did I last see it? A sense of hope, some direction, some conviction, tiny bits of motivation. Where did I last see content? Was it college? Was it Bangalore of 2019-20. Was it the few months before the pandemic hit? I think so. Its always easy to find comfort in past. Especially when there isn’t much to look forward to in the present. And then I get carried by this unbearable conviction that I’d be much happier somewhere else, probably Bangalore or Delhi, or maybe some new city…
But somehow I bring myself back. I ask myself, what was it about being in transit that I liked the most. Why did I stay up the whole night, to reach at 4am on the airport, when my flight was hours away? Why did I walk 8km after an entire day of work, when I could have just taken a rapido? I wanted to experience the quiet of the dawn, the sunrise from the huge window panels at the airport. I wanted to see what colors people chose to decorate their houses, and the tiny plants they kept in their balconies. I guess taking the direct route to my destination would not have allowed that.
And so each day, despite being down with uncertainty and confusion, I actively remind myself of the perks of being in transit. I get to pet and feed a really cute pair of cat and dog, each night. Everyday! Unbelievable. I get to cook food more often (only if my mother would allow me to do that more often). I have so much more time to read and write such things to feel a little hopeful again. I get to take these long walks where I end up clicking hundreds of random photographs. Each evening, I get to visit the lake, and I swear that breeze has meditative powers. Above all, I finally get to take music classes, and reignite a small part of my childhood (by going to those evening classes).
When Life Gives You Melon
Choose Water over Choly 🍉
Aakash xx