My Every Day Reading: An Incredible Journey of a Mother to the heart of India (Calicut-hyderabd-delhi-shimla-delhi-hyderabad-bangaloor-mysoor-wayanad-Calicut), Part 1

This is a simple note about my incredible journey. Incredible journey? Did a 55+ aged mother have an incredible journey? Frankly enough! In my life I have not even journeyed so long, my maximum distance at a sitting was some 100 KM, it may be a stopover to my sister’s house, from Kondotty to Wazhanad or my daughter-in-law’s house, from Kondotty to Palakkad. But one day, a phone from my son, Musaahique gave me enough laughs. He invited me to accompany to him to Delhi! My answer was very important; I could either thankfully refuse that offer or dare to accept it! Despite of all the teething troubles such a long journey would give me, I accepted that proffer. Doing this I had two intentions; firstly I sought to know whether he was serious and also I really wanted to go to somewhere faraway place. Each journey is a starting from our mundane life, no matter whatever its outcome may be, the journey is important. Until he was explaining his journey plan, I was thinking he was jockeying. But he was serious and well determined. The journey plan was very complicated, to me at least. I heard only a few places in his chart.

-Calicut-hyderabd-delhi-shimla-delhi-hyderabad-bangaloor-mysoor-wayanad-Calicut-

Firstly, I re-figured this map into -kondotty-areacode-manjeri-perintthanlamanna-manjeri-kondotty-. I could only reflect my imagination like a small circle of my village. My India is vast, vaster than I ever thought about. Whenever the news about the journey spread out, all put their fingers on their noses. All were apprehensive about my health. Some advised me to not take risk, and instead suggested me to favour to take the last option, a journey to Mysoor. North India is another world! a country of far far a way land. Firstly, I also considered taking the last option, but there were also some others who encouraged me to go with my son wherever he goes and some dared to ask him to append Kashmir too to the plan! Each journey gives us an endless experience and when I am concerned even a single step from my house is a starting point where a flood of experience begins to come!

at Hyderabad Central University

My son had obtained a gold medal from two central universities for his study excellence. He was placed first in MA Sociology from IGNOU, New Delhi and PG Dipolma in Dalid and Minority Studies from Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. He missed the gold medal award-giving-function of IGNOU and when it’s time to get a gold medal from Jamia Millia Isalmia he readied to go to receive it. To make this event more colourful and blessed he invited me to accompany him. My family has extended support to go to the far away land. All of sudden, everything happened! But still there were some practical problems. He was in Hyderabad and somebody wanted to come to take me to Hyderabad. My three sons and daughter- in-law also were in Hyderabad. One day my youngest child phoned me and asked to come with some of his friends to Hyderabad. I agreed.

at Jamia Millia Islamia

I remember that day distinguishly. It was a fine, rainless November day. Flowers were bloomed everywhere. Monsoon has just stopped to make the event merrier, and the water it poured all along was filled even a single hole on the earth. My mind murmured, it is the best time to go anywhere. I started that very unexpected, but thrilling journey to affix new meaning to my life. I stepped into the train from Palakkad. Palm trees waved their leaves to send me off. Train seemed very happy to carry a lucky mother to go far. I was about to daunting with the new atmosphere, but the presence of those students who all were students of Moulana Azad Urdu National University, Hyderabad gave me enough safe feeling in a compressed and packed compartment. I did not even my seat; the idea of reserved seat was a new thing to me. But they helped me and found a very comfortable seat for me.

beside Taj Mahal

Train was in a very fast pace. The sound of chuk..chuk of the train resonated my own heart beat. I was separating from my beloved state into an alien, scary land. Instead of feeling fright, I enjoyed the journey. The night I slept in the train with millions of very colourful dreams. In my dream I was alone and was going to a valley where flowers blossomed and birds chirped and from far away a very small girl started dancing. The face of that young gal was not so lucid. She sang a very familiar song I used to sing in my childhood days. After a song, that child came along to me, I was surprised, it was me, and her face was mine! My dream was about me! I enjoyed that song, and when I was awake, the sun was already there. One of the students said to me, in a very low voice that the whole night I was singing some old songs! I said them: ‘Those all songs are not old, it all came from my fresh mind’.

before Jama Masjid

When the train halted the next stop, I heard some strange sounds of another languages, I looked at the sign board. It was Wijayawada. I took my mobile phone; the battery charge was already empty in it. I took a ‘reserved battery’ and inserted a new Andhra SIM card which my son had given me to put in when I cross the boundaries! Now everything is new, and from the freshly charged mobile phone I rang to Hyderabad. After years of struggle for living, first time I was going to a far a place. In a dreamy state, I was about to sleep again in day-time Suhaib came and said: ‘Umma we are reaching to the Secunderabad railway station’ then suddenly I got up and freshed my face with water. The train was on time until that time, but when it was about to reach its destination, it started to go very slowly, slower than a snail. I heard the sigh of the train. It only produced the chuk chuk sounds, but did not want us to leave it. one seat in this train was my abode at least for some hours. Then the train totally stopped. People were complaining and abusing for ‘the dead train’, but I felt rather very sorry to that poor train! Train only makes its name meaningful only there are thousands of travellers, and when nobody is there its only a iron coated machine body. So when it was about to reach its last destination, it did its last option to lag a little more time only to give it to be a meaning being.

Red Fort

When I was reaching there, my sons and daughter-in-law were already present there. They gave me rose flowers. I felt very happy. When I hugged my children I felt home in Hyderabad. We did not have much time before going to Delhi. I stayed with my son that day. I was too tired so I slept when I saw the bed. In a certain moment, I woke up. Still there was the light in the room, I tried to open my eyes and stand to switch off the light, and when I switched off the light, a meek sound came from the corner.

‘Mam, I am still awake. I am searching for a ticket for tomorrow’

‘Searching for a ticket for tomorrow?’

I did not comprehend what my son was saying, then he explained.

‘I booked our ticket for tomorrow, but the ticket from Hyderabad to delhi has been cancelled. I booked it through the website www.irctc.co.in. so if a seat is not confirmed it would be cancelled automatically. So I am trying to find out some other way to get a ticket’

‘Ok, well’

at Lotus Temple with two Swedish tourists

I actually did not understand what he was telling me. So I wished him a solution and returned to finish my broken dream. When I got up next day, he was still before his laptop, I was totally upset with him and in a very slow voice I express my disquiet with him for avoiding his sleep in the night. Then he told me in an excitement.

‘Mom! Finally I found a solution for our journey. I searched all the way around and at last found two trains to go to Delhi. In the first train we will go to Nagpur and we will stay in Nagpur a day and from there we will catch another train to Delhi. Actually there is not a single train to go without a break, and we don’t have another day to post pone our journey’.

He thought I would be very dissatisfied if I heard that very strange idea, but I was very happy to go wherever he would go. For me, this journey was not for a destination, but for travelling all around India.

Qutub Minar

The next day at 10 am, we reached at the train station. I have never seen such a crowd before in any railway staion. Every inch of Secunderabad railway station mackerel packed with the people. I was scared I might lose myself in that crowd. The train was going to Bihar. Though it was a sleeper class, each seat, two or three ‘illegal’ passengers occupied all most all the ‘reserved’ seats. Our two seats reduced into one. He told me the idea of RAC. One of our seats was occupied by a teenager. We did not say him to leave the seat, he was looking at us and expected anytime he would be asked to get up. There was also another man, a guy with a moustache and a pot belly, he was sleeping or rather pretending that he was in a deep sleep. He got a middle birth and he was ‘sleeping’ in that seat and made enough hard to the other passengers who were supposed to sit in the lower birth. All the five passengers were compelled to sit the other side. A pot bellied man in one side and five persons including women in the other side! I was thinking India is very divergent is all aspects!

The train started moving. A journey to a wonderland, a mother in a wonderland would be the apt title for this post. Suddenly I felt I lost everything which I thought would help always. My language became just some disturbing syllable to others and only my son understood what I communicated through it, what helplessness! Before me there was small kid with her mother and always it slipped from the seat, my heart ached, but my tongue was tied, no word which familiar to her did not come out it. I, in a very low voice, but

Hyderabad

sometimes in a bit louder pained her gesture to slip and I said only, ‘mol’, ‘mol’. I tried to believe that in all language words for mother and child must be same. When I failed to lull or convince that small kid, I turned back and held my son’s hand tight as if I were a small kid who confronted difficulties to speak its first syllable to its mother. If we don’t know a language we are equal to a innocent child!