Its been a long time tat I scribbled something out here… Here goes another one… read on --->>>
This dramatic moment happened when I was in my early teens. When my family: dad, mom, bro and me set out for a trip to visit the famous temple of Thirupati. Visit to this temple was a yearly mandate to most of the families, but we hardly visited due to monetary illness that was prominent for years. The trip meant two things for me: To offer the coins into the Hundi (the holy offering box) that we (my bro and me) had collected over years in the small hand-made clay-made piggy bank treasured in our prayer hall and the second obviously to see new places, new people and of course to stay away from those boring classes that we had to attend back at school.
The train we traveled, crawled all the way crossing the Western Ghats, cutting the Deccan aiming at a small place in AP, from where we had to catch a bus that would take us all the way up to the hilltop where the temple was situated and the small town surrounding it dwelled.
As usual we were fighting for the Window side seat when the train brought itself to a controlled stop. I saw the chaye wala move at high speed from one side of the window to the other, opposite to the direction, the train moved. So did the tea shop, the khaki man holding the red flag, the weighing machine, the bookstall.... THE BOOK STALL!!! The train had just arrived an unknown station somewhere deep and lost in the Deccan. Why not get some magazines, a Balarama, the Chandamama of south, probably if it was available in this part of the country. Dad and myself got down and walked in the opposite direction to find the bookstall that passed by us a few minutes back.... Occasional Tea from the Chaye wala… Timely Parly-G biscuits… Stocked Jeera Water… New faces all around… With small such incidents Our trip was moving out to be an exciting one. When one part of my brain was busy processing the images that flashed behind the cross barred windows of the compartment, the other part was thinking about the destination that we where heading to.
It was pitch dark and late in the evening when my dad decided to take me out in the crowded temple town, where he could have his few puffs of smoke (if possible, but it was banned in the premises) and me some quick snacks. Mom and bro stayed back in the room that we rented for the days to come until we got ‘Darsan’.
The town was still crowded with its floating devotee population. The stalls were still open and the devotional songs still played at high volumes in huge Ahuja Speakers. We walked through the crowd, there were thousands of faces all around they never bothered about us and was moving all around like bees in a hive.
It was then that I first tried to notice HER. SHE was in a bright yellow sleeveless salwar with a silky dupatta that was wound around her tender neck protecting her from the cold wind that had started to blow. Though tired, her face was bright like a sunny day, her hair brisk like the winter breeze, her eyes twinkling like the brightest stars that studded the summer sky like diamonds. She too was with her dad holding his index finger. A cool breeze waved her unattended hair in the air as she walked. Her chubby cheeks, her rosy lips, her black beautiful sharp eyes…
I could see her dupatta fall like a feather all the way down her shoulder as she raised her hand and with her index finger pointed out to a shop that was steaming with VAPOURS. Her dad put his hands around her shoulders comforting her and both went towards the shop. She arranged her dupatta as she drank a glass full. A few drops trailed down her cheeks spoiling her salwar. She raised the glass up and waited for the last drop that fell like a bead… She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the richness of the last drop. Now that was really tempting… and there was a huge rush within me… I knew I will never forget this moment… the effect was beyond any sought of expression… First time I felt that I was LOST. Lost in an unknown crowd within the crowd in which we were on the move. With utmost desperation I raised my head, looked at my fathers face and raised my right arm and pointed to the Vapoured Shop……..
Now it’s been 10 Years after this incident. This very incident that skipped a few of my heart beats. I never got a chance thereafter until while I was at chennai...........
Born as an artist, Dreamt of being a Scientist, Trained to be an Electronics Engineer, Fated to be a Software Techie… I was here in the metropolitan city of Chennai with a family friend. Being just one among the million floating IT population of the city I stood with him at the temple streets of Mylapore, in search of a rented room, where I could stay, during my tenure at the IT firm, where I got placed one year back.
Being tired after our discontented, unsatisfied, unsuccessful search, we parked our two-wheeler near the pedestrian path and got down to decide on “What Next??”
I looked around. The street seemed too busy with beggars, stray dogs, coffee shops, pan wala, rocketing mopeds, ‘Hijadas’, flower marts, High class pure veg restaurants, Vapours! VAPOUR!!!!!!!!
The VAPOUR! It came from a huge tumbler hid over rich orange-yellow flames. There was a big beefy man sitting besides it and was busy collecting milk from the tumbler into small steel glasses. The shop sold milk rich with cream and butter. It looked like the same old Vapour filled shop I came across at the busy temple streets of Thirupati !!!!!
I could still remember each and every pico second that I experienced 10 Years back, when dad and me set off for a casual walk. I still remember how my salivary glands were stimulated, and how it gave out a rush as I saw the girl in yellow dress gulp down the last drop of milk from the steel glass she was holding… and how my mouth was watered with immense temptation to gulp down at least one glass, that would quench my thirst as well as the curiosity that was all lingered around the shop filled with Vapours and the milk it sold. I still remember my dad, nodding his head, giving out a “NO” when with utmost desperation, I raised my head, looking at my fathers eyes, raised my right arm to point the Vapoured Shop, the very moment when I felt LOST for the colossal temptation, for that one glass of milk, that had engulfed me on that day.
The yellow dressed girl sipping the hot cream-rich milk was still preserved like a Renaissance masterpiece deep within my memories. It just popped up with immediate effect as I saw the Vapoured Shop at the temple streets of Mylapore. The same Stimulation, the same rush… I was sure that this time I was not going to miss this Golden Opportunity. Or rather I couldn’t control my 10 Years of thirst for that cup of hot cream-rich milk. My friend and me went to the shop. Ordered two glasses. Within seconds it was in my hands. Steel glass filled with hot cream-rich butter-rich fat-rich milk that tasted like peda with lots of sugar in it. I slowly had my first sip. Yummy… A wave triggered its way from my toes all the way to the top making my body to quiver. Gorged it all down to my empty stomach within seconds. It was awesome. I closed my eyes as I raised the glass and tilted it, so as to channel the last drop into my mouth. I enjoyed the taste of the last drop and experienced it the same way the girl in yellow dress would have had 10 years back. My 10 Years long thirst over this one little glass of cream-rich milk from the “Vapoured Shop” was thus QUENCHED!!! ;-)
NB: This story is 100% Unadulterated and is 100% inspired by two different true life incidents that happened at two different time frames, 10 Years Gapped ;-)
