Poona: Day 1 and 2

As I arrived on Platform number 7 of New Delhi Railway Station a chilly stroke of breeze greeted me. It was cold and I was wearing only one jacket. I had anticipated that Poona won't be "that" cold. Mum pulled me to the other side, on Platform Number 8 a much sunnier side where Jhelum Express would arrive, albeit hour an hour late from Jammu.
While still on the station Mum introduced me to my female neighbour for the next 27 hours. She's going to Poona too. I shruged her for making aqutainces with little or unknown people, she shrugs me - uuhhhhhh. The train starts, Mom's eyes becomes wet, I almost kiss her ear and a goodbye to Dad. Not that this was the first journey I had taken to Poona but the difference with this one was that I was returing very soon. Spending a few sleepy hours on the upper birth I was told to vacate for the original occupant. I came down. It was almost dark outside. I tried to be quiet but end up asking the "female neighbour" if she's from Poona. "No" she said. "I'm doing my Masters in Sociology from University of Poona". It came as a little delight, atleast I can trust a University of Poona student wouldn't be as dumb or rather parocial. The Lady turned out to be from Assam. She had studied Sociology from Miranda House of Delhi University. And well the best part she's very intelligent and courteous. For the most part we were talking. The Lady had worked in a centre serving retarted youth. Our talks ranged from the attitude of Maharashtrians towards North Indians to the attitudes of Delhites towards North-Easterners. Though Assamese, she looked hardly like one. The remaining Indians recognise North-Easterners by their "chinck" features, a rather pejorative term. The hostility from both the sides towards the other is therefore understandable. The North-Easterners look at Delhiites with accusations of Masuline Libido and Barbarianism or the treating them as Foreigners (which is true). The only way I could make out she was Assamese was her hindi pronunciations.
Within an hour we were "friendly". I offered Lays which she scrupulously accepted. I suggested her some places to visit in and around Poona and also the Tekdi (a small hill from where you get a bird's eye view of the city) unknown to many outsiders. She confessed that studies occupies most of her time and she doesn't have a vehicle (a must in Poona). The journey seemed easier with a person you could relate to. 27 hours this time didn't seem that long as my previous journeys, some even with my classmates.

Somewhere in North Maharastra, I always observe this "hill". It stands amongst all the plain surrounding it

The morning got us bitter omellette with hard slices of bread with a hint of butter. Soon arrived Daund, a small junction. It's only an hour from here. The train will now start to run in the opposite direction.

One hour to Go...

Time to part with the lady. She greeted me with a cheerful smile and bid adios. Somehow I have always liked longer train journeys rather than the shorter but uneasier flights I have taken. The hours I spend in a train almost gives me a feeling of "home". I sleep, I eat, I drink and I even make "relationships" if not friends. And they are an experience in itself. A feeling of having achieved or have arrived somewhere after hours of hardship (or maybe not).
Outside the Railways Station, I looked for the Bus Stand. I has moved. I take an Auto and reach Saket's house and get fresh, excited to meet friends I have had some of my life's best laughs with.
I meet Paul and Ruju in the Department. They have arrived on the 4th after 5 days of partying in Goa. Later it's Roopali time. One of Poona's landmark reaturant. I drool over Rava Masala Dosa which I have longed for 4 months to have. I laugh as much as I have not for 4 months. Smiles are apparently all around...
After our rendevous, I walk with Manasi towards Ranade. She asks me if I still miss Poona. I tell her that the transition period is over. But its a strange feeling, I've never felt as happy as I have in Poona, but when I'm here I think about Delhi, the people I know there, what they might be doing, the events I'm missing, and when I'm there I think about Poona and the people and events goin on here, it's the existence of parallel cities that exist only in the mind. A term I read on a blog.

Later I went around FC Road where I mourned the death of Barista. It was a beautiful cafe with some open area for smokers and those who want to enjoy the fresh (?) air. My memories of this cafe gripped me. I have seen some of the most gorgeous people sipping coffee in this cafe. One was Anna, a spanish teacher who used to sit her for a fag with her notebook trying to learn Hindi letters. Then there was Alice, Anna's French friend, also a teacher at the Foreign languages department who left unscrupulously after a tiff with the department, it was splashed all over the newspapaers. Then there were usual smokers, young boys and girls some perhaps even tried smoking for the first time. Also, there were the regs and the not so regs visiting this part of the city. While coming to Ranade today I spotted the same Barista board on a new, still to be open mall exactly opposite my department... but I wonder if it will be the same... my guess is rather negative...