Memories / Melancholy
A record of random thoughts that came to me this weekend
Breaking Patterns
Ever since I bought a car, I have tried to keep in check unnecessary expenses on avoidable luxuries. One such expense is the airport cab from Bengaluru to my aunt’s place and another from Bengaluru to Tumakuru. It would add up to an amount close to ₹3000. I thought I would skip this expense and take public transport.
As per new principles of reciprocity, I decided not to visit my aunt’s home this time because I realised that I was the only one trying way too hard to keep that relationship alive. So, I felt there was a need to change my hardwired habits. I decided to go directly to Tumakuru and skipped the visit to aunt’s house.
So, I asked people about the KSRTC bus stop at Bengaluru T2 for the first time. Before this, I had never taken a bus to or from the airport. In my opinion, the bus service from Bengaluru airport is top-notch. The service is called “Vayu Vajra”, a comfortable Volvo bus equipped with AC.
The fare to reach Majestic, the city bus stand, is ₹245. That’s almost 1/5 of the fare via Uber. I had not withdrawn cash, so I asked if the conductor accepted UPI. To my surprise, the answer was yes. Brilliant UX! I assumed that even the intercity buses might accept UPI, solving the hassle of carrying the exact change for bus fares. Unfortunately, cash is still the king on intercity rides.
Cash Is Still King
The banking system challenged my return to middle-class ways. The sole debit card I was carrying did not work. I asked a few shopkeepers if they could give me cash if I paid them via UPI (and even bought some snacks/water). None of them were altruistic enough to help me.
Finally, I found a guy who said he would give me ₹1000 if I transferred ₹1100 to him. I checked if he’d give me ₹500 if I transferred ₹550. After all, I needed only ₹80 to travel to Tumakuru from Bengaluru. The dude refused. Finally, I accepted the deal. The cashless way to travel via Uber would have been at least ₹1500.
After all this Ramayana, I reached Tumakuru at 4 PM. I probably lost around 3 hours due to the circuitous path to home. But I had broken the bad habit of choosing convenient and expensive cabs.
Memories
The memories started gushing into my head when I walked from Bhadramma Choultry Circle to my home. It’s barely 300 metres by walk. As I passed the government school behind Ram Mandir, I remembered the summer camp I had attended there as a child.
I played cricket and Lagori on that ground with some random kids whose names I’d forgotten. The Ram Mandir brings back so many memories, including the Ram Navami celebrations I attended 3-4 years ago.
Five months can change your surroundings by leaps and bounds. There was a boutique grocery store instead of a clothing store at the entrance of 3rd Cross, where my family resides. An empty site in my street now has a 4-storeyed complex all set for opening.
The school bus stop near the 4th cross came into my sight as I turned towards my home on the 3rd cross. The bakery right opposite the stop has been a constant for decades now. A hundred million things can be recalled if I put in an effort. But I just wanted to reach home and take a bath.
Melancholy
Even my home had changed! My mother and brother have converted my grandfather’s big room and the porch into a boutique Khadi store. My ancestral business is on Ashoka Road, close to the bus stand where many people have been shopping with us for decades.
However, where I reside, MG Road and KR Extension have become commercial areas. So, it makes sense to have a branch here. But I also guess it would be harder to manage two stores without proper management.
But I feel the compound where I grew up, watering a dozen pots with a hose, has been razed down to make way for a store. It feels like an additional gut punch. This change is probably a good one. But one can only wait and watch if it leads to the desired results.
This morning, I went for another walk around the KR extension. Right at the edge of the locality, a huge public ground is accessible to the residents who want to go for a walk.
Banyan trees with deep roots stand on the right edge of these grounds. When I was in the first standard, I used to go on walks with my dad on these grounds. I wondered how things would’ve been different if he had been around for longer and taken an active part in my life.
At the same time, I wonder how things would have been so different if a couple of things had been different during the last two months.
The hand of god nudges the history of individuals in very subtle ways. However, due to these subtle deviations, the final result changes drastically. And often, it leaves the mortals in deep, inconsolable melancholy.