Year 1996
C.R.P.F. Campus, Delhi.
I was 3 years old, so I don't have any memory of this incident. Whatever I know is from what I have been told by my parents. We were preparing to shift to Rampur and my parents were busy packing. My grandfather ( who is no more, who is dearly missed when I can't sleep. He could pat anyone to sleep, even if you just woke up) was busy talking to the neighbours, it was his favourite pastime. I guess the little chubby kid ( me! Yes! I used to be fat! I swear! ) was feeling neglected and bored. So I set out to explore the outdoors. Strangely enough, I just knew how to climb down the stairs and not how to climb them up! Stealthily, escaping the notice of my family and neighbours ( who absolutely loved me), I ventured out!
I don't have any account of what happened with me or what interesting things I saw and experienced.
At home, hell broke loose.
No one knew where I was, neither they could find me anywhere. Panic prevailed, anxiety accompanied.
The search continued and finally they found me in a zoo ( when they said zoo, they didn't really clarify which zoo were they referring to. I think it wasn't a big one with many wild animals.. Or was it? ) Bonus? A stranger was holding my hand.
I still get teased of the prospects of the stranger taking me away with her. I would have been a completely different person.
I was lucky enough to find my way back home.
**************
January 2012
St. Stephen's College, Delhi
Hindi class. Our teacher is listing out the names of hindi newspapers and has asked us to get as many as possible to the class the next day.
Where do we get them? Asked the class.
"Ghanta ghar / Clock tower," He replied.
So this was my task for the day - to get hindi newspapers. It was an unusually pleasant day for January. Sunny, warm. I was very much familiar with Kamla Nagar by then, had gone to Amba maybe once and thought it would be easy for me to find hindi newspapers. I set out. Roamed around Kamla, asking for hindi newspapers at every bookstore, only in vain. The shop owners always pointed out to other shops that may have hindi newspapers, but they were not to be found at any of them. Went ahead till Gol Chakkar, asked the book stall owners and they pointed out to different shops and different directions. I finally found my way to Ghanta ghar and the way the traffic moves there is scary. There is almost no space for pedestrians to walk. Found the hindi newspapers and uttering a word of thanks to God, headed back to college. I was feeling smug at making it 'this far' and was sure that I remember the way back.
I was wrong. I didn't remember the way back.
Before I realised that I was lost, I had gone around the Gol Chakkar thrice.
Three times!
It was cold and I was still sweating. I gave up on my navigation skills. Found a rickshaw, asked :
"Bhaiya, Stephen's College chaloge?"
He didn't know where Stephen's was.
Sadness.
I tried again, this time I asked :
"Bhaiya, Hindu College chaloge?"
He knew where Hindu College was. Sigh of relief. Happiness.
It was a route I had never seen. I saw the other entrance of the Hindu College. Few minutes later, I saw my college. This was the second time I felt THAT happy to see my college ( first was when I came to College for the first time. It was love at first sight).
I walked briskly back to my room. It was January and I was sweating. I was happy - I found the newspapers and I found my way back to college. Reached my room, the lights were off. Tiptoed in, my roomie was asleep. Perfect.
I dozed off too.
It was an unusual kind of happiness - of losing my way and finding it back.
For now, I can happily conclude - Though I wander and getting back seems difficult, I always find my way back home :D
Poignant.
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