Eight years ago, I wrote about the Mumbai monsoon.
Every monsoon, I remember Mumbai, mostly with fondness. But one memory that keeps coming back to me is going to Pune from Mumbai during the monsoon.
The beginning of the journey wasn't pleasant. Taking an auto to Andheri station, fighting the crowds to get on to the local, getting off at Dadar station, wading through water, and negotiating with the rains using a useless umbrella, getting to the Pune bus-stop. And then once I was in the Volvo, it would be alright. The sights from the large windows weren't very pleasant till we got out of the city, but were interesting nevertheless.
And then once the bus reached the Mumbai-Pune expressway, it was like watching a movie. The smooth roads, the rolling hills, the mist, the clouds - all through Lonavla and Khandala. Those simple sights, comprising of green grassy hills and white mist and clouds are some of the most relaxing and pleasing sights I've seen.
Of course, mixed with it was the joy and anticipation of going "home" for the weekend. "Home" in this case was my aunt's place, which was, for me, very close to actually going to my own home. I felt loved there, I could ask my aunt to make bendekaayi gojju and I could spend a fun, relaxed weekend with my cousins.
Thinking of those Mumbai-Pune journeys now arouses in me, along with a tinge of nostalgia, a twinge of pain, because one of those cousins was her.
Every monsoon, I remember Mumbai, mostly with fondness. But one memory that keeps coming back to me is going to Pune from Mumbai during the monsoon.
The beginning of the journey wasn't pleasant. Taking an auto to Andheri station, fighting the crowds to get on to the local, getting off at Dadar station, wading through water, and negotiating with the rains using a useless umbrella, getting to the Pune bus-stop. And then once I was in the Volvo, it would be alright. The sights from the large windows weren't very pleasant till we got out of the city, but were interesting nevertheless.
And then once the bus reached the Mumbai-Pune expressway, it was like watching a movie. The smooth roads, the rolling hills, the mist, the clouds - all through Lonavla and Khandala. Those simple sights, comprising of green grassy hills and white mist and clouds are some of the most relaxing and pleasing sights I've seen.
Of course, mixed with it was the joy and anticipation of going "home" for the weekend. "Home" in this case was my aunt's place, which was, for me, very close to actually going to my own home. I felt loved there, I could ask my aunt to make bendekaayi gojju and I could spend a fun, relaxed weekend with my cousins.
Thinking of those Mumbai-Pune journeys now arouses in me, along with a tinge of nostalgia, a twinge of pain, because one of those cousins was her.
2 comments:
I can almost feel the rain on my face, Shruthi!
Lak, wow :D
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