I have been living in Mumbai for close to 7 years
now and calling it my second home. However, when pangs of nostalgia hit
me I long for the city where I grew up in viz Trivandrum (TVM). Thanks to the
birth of my son I got to have an extended stay in my hometown. I decided to
spend some quality time with TVM (its not only with people that you get to
spend a quality time).
My Hercules MTB bicycle was one of the first
possessions in life that had came into my hands on June 6, 1998 when I was
around 12. I have spent a good part of my adolescent years in that cycle until
the advent of my bike in July 2004. The bicycle did take a backseat in my life
and was handed over to my younger brother. Since the fitness bug had bit me
back then even after owning a bike I made it a point that every weekday I used
to cycle for 4 km from my home to All Saints College and back. I had zeroed in
on the route just like that without any thought. I used to set out after coming
home from college around 5:15 pm and be back by 6:30 pm .Now it has to be noted
that All Saints College is one of the most popular girls college of the city.
Naturally my mother got suspicious and engaged my brother to spy on me for a
couple of days after seeing me religiously cycling every weekday. My brother
reported to her that there was no monkey business. The reality was, at that
point of time I didn’t even know the monkey or any business per se. Well it was
just a coincidence that later in life I got married to the daughter of the Vice
Principal of that very same college. Moving on I had a lot of memories attached
with my bicycle. Just like the wheel of a car I used to refer to the handle of
the Cycle as ‘The Barrel’ in the stories I used to write then. So naturally the
cycle was all fixed up so that I can use it during my time in TVM.
I had longed for this cycle very much because until
then I was using a much smaller cycle from my time in Gwalior. I remember that
I was on cloud nine when I got to lay my hands on the beauty. My over smart
brother who could barely reach out to the pedals started to use the cycle
occasionally. Now to put him off I raised the height of the cycle to the
maximum. To my dismay he started to stand and cycle so that he
doesn’t have to sit anymore. I tell him always that you owe me one for
your height of 6 feet 3 inches. There were countless instances when both of us
had to go to church or someplace else and I used to ride with him. He used to
sit in the rod between the handle bar and the seat while I cycled. Due to his
growth spurt he far overtook me in height and we started to ride the cycle the
other way round. One fine day while he was taking me to the bus stop so that I
could go to college. He was bragging about the kind of control he had over
the cycle. In the course of the conversation he started to ride the cycle with
one hand to prove what he was saying. In an effort to further prove his point
he let go both of his hands unmindful of my strong protests. We promptly
crashed into an Electric Post at the side of the road while I landed up in the
wall adjacent to the post,my brother fell on the road with the cycle. Years
later it was a déjà vu moment when both of us fell onto the side of the road in
our bike while navigating a slope. In both cases my brother was driving.
Barrotta, beef fry, chicken fry, all sorts of fish
fried in coconut oil, Kappa-meen curry(Tapioca-fish curry) were my fellow
travelers during my time in Trivandrum. It was as if I was making amends for
the time I was away from here. I used take my wife for morning walks at the
Napiers Museum, Kanakakunnu Palace and International Airport. Never ever until
now had I visited these places with the intention just to walk around and
I began to see these places in a totally different light. At other times my day
in TVM started off with a 13 km cycle ride across the city to relive my
adolescence. I always felt that I didn’t have to force myself unlike in
Mumbai where I had to push myself every morning for a jog. During the course of
my ride my mind was at ease and I had such clarity of thought that it gave me
time to think reflect on a lot of things. The idea for my previous 2 blog
posts came to me while I was cycling .Cycling across TVM was the most
liberating experience that I had, of letting go everything, it was as if I was
a teenager back in time and boy that was such a wonderful feeling. And now I
understand why it felt so effortless to go cycling every single morning.
It was simply because there were far too many memories attached to the
activity. If you ask me anything and everything associated with nostalgia is
definitely going to give you immense joy.
The side road from my house will lead up to the
Vanchiyoor Court. The gentle incline of the Holy Angels Convent School. As I
pass through reminiscent of my grade 3 classroom my muscles slowly warm up from
the extra strain. The challenging incline of General Hospital to the calm level
roads in front of the AKG Centre(the nerve centre of the ruling Communist party
of Kerala) is quite a relief. As I turn right from the roundabout in front of
Kerala University I am reminded of my Engineering days(I graduated from this
very University). Into the Underpass (an engineering marvel back on its day)
towards Bakery junction. A sharp left before the RBI building into a
steep incline passing through to the Nandavanam Police Camp and Excise
Commissioner’s Office. As lactic acid builds into your aching muscles you reach
the Museum Police Station. You just want to rest your legs as you just glide
down to Vellayambalam and take a left .
As you cycle through the tree lined avenues
creating a canopy for the tired souls along Vellayamblam Kowdiar route slowly
you are able to catch your breath. The enormity of the Raj Bhavan hits you when
it takes a bit of time to traverse its length.I have travelled so many times through
this road but have never seen the neatly trimmed grass forming the shape of 2
elephants along with the words”Raj Bhavan”. For a brief period of time there
were some brick installations exhibited in that very stretch which were put up
to mark the birth centenary of renowned British born Indian Architect Laurie
baker .Art is definitely an integral part of this city. One day I saw a
battered superbike in the footpath that presented a stark reminder of a high
speed crash the previous night. It has to be noted that the
Vellaymabalam-Kowdiar stretch is also a preferred spot for racing stunts.
Taking a left from Kowdiar Junction passing through the new foodie stretch
lined up with a number of eateries into Marappalam which opens into the
Plammodu Junction.Taking a right from Plammodu junction towards
Gowreeshapattom I reach Patoor via Vadayakkadu and Moolavilakam. This stretch
opens a flood gate of memories for me.
One fine day when I was 11 years old or so I along
with my younger brother who is in his KG disembarked from our school bus and
were walking home. As we entered the house our mother asked him as to where his
school bag was. He looked at me,I just shook my head and replied that he had
left it in the bus. Till this day I still can’t find a reason as to what
happened next. I grabbed my bicycle not the one that I have described here but
rather the small one that my Dad got for me when I was in Gwalior. I tried to
chase down the school bus in my cycle, can you believe that? I don’t know what
I was thinking. I remember going through the school diary to try to understand
as to what route the bus was taking. It so happened that the bus was taking a
longer route and was going round and round in an area not far from my home. I
cycled furiously to Patoor Junction only to see in the distance the taillights
of the bus disappearing. I didn’t lose hope and still gave chase, as I had said
earlier the bus was going round and round in an effort to drop maximum number
of students thereby covering a very small distance.To cut a long
story short as the bus had completed dropping everyone I ran up to the bus
conductor totally out of breath telling him that I need to get a bag. I was
panting like hell when I raced into the bus to retrieve the prized possession
of the bag. Even today when I cycle through the Vadayacadu-Moolavilakam Patoor
stretch I have goosebumps reliving this experience.
Finally from Patoor Junction I take a right towards
Pettah and again take a side road to Ambalathumukku junction and finally my
home. A journey of close to 13 kms in little under an hour on a slow lane
will give you a totally different perspective of life when you complete it.
Moving on it also gave me a
chance to step back and analyze what has changed in the city I grew up in. Due
to the heavy traffic I couldn’t use the same route for cycling which I used in
my college days. Technopark(an IT Park) in the city had changed the face of the
city. There is a very high number of Software professionals from the length and
breadth of the country based in TVM. The movie theatres that I used to frequent
had totally changed and would give a run for its money to any multiplex that I
have visited in Mumbai. I also happened to witness the opening of the first
mall in TVM with much fanfare. As any other growing city TVM is also grappling
with traffic woes. Last but not the least the it has become extremely hot in
TVM. The temperature definitely has shot up by a few notches from the time I
have lived there.
P.S: Fast forward 2021 we are in the midst of a pandemic. Most of us are in TVM we meet at badminton courts on a daily basis in the mornings. Understandably I am too lazy to go play my excuse being I would much rather go cycling for my cardio rather than making a fool of myself because let us face it I suck in the game. For the record I don’t cycle from a fitness perspective but to satiate my need of going back in time and being the boy of 12 whose most prized possession was this very cycle. Fitness is for the heartless freaks ,romantics like me would choose nostalgia any day over sweating it out in the gym.
To read more School meet ups in transition
