The city that lives.

My friendship with the city began when i was in 5th standard. I had to go to the city to attend school . There was no school bus etc - well my parents didn't avail the facility that's all. I had to take the KSRTC bus get down at Vellayambalam , the ticket was 50ps or 70 ps i don't remember.

It was fun those days. I had 1.5 rupees reserve money in case of emergencies . 1.5 Rupees !! :)) and it was enough . Well sometimes the reserve money went to buying sip ups or candies . Anyways my fifth standard year was the time when the city started talking to me. It told me about how all of its roads were interconnected. Sometimes it would urge me to walk down some strange path just to see where I'd emerge. I was never surprised. The city always told me where i would end up beforehand.

Then my school moved to near my home. It was a 5 -10 minutes walk. So until i got to Xth standard , the city was largely out of the picture.

Then i had tuition s. I sometimes had to get down at Vellayambalam and walk or catch another bus to Peroorkada . Sometimes I had to come to Vellayambalam to get back home. Plus I got to go on my cycle on weekends. Weekends were when the city spoke again. I'd hurtle through unknown lanes , to emerge triumphantly at Vazhuthacad or Edapazhinji or Jawahar nagar or Kaudiar just i had calculated. By then I assumed that it was my uncanny sense of direction that was letting me take those random turns and emerge wherever I want. I'd largely forgotten about the city by then.

Then I was in 12th , tuitions were still there but the detours were gone. It was a mad rush from home to school to tuition. The city became an irritating place which i had to navigate like a difficult level in Prince of Persia. :) Sometimes I cursed the buses that were never on time and the city that made them late.

Then when the exams were over, I began to go about again. On my cycle. The detours returned. But now I was looking for the longest route home so I could cycle through the city , watching all the people on their journeys , people madly rushing about. Finding the roads with the least traffic became an obsession. After the daily C Programming class, I'd cycle all over the city , with the burning sun on my back, my shirt drenched in sweat . It was fun. I cycled a lot during that time. It was the time when i really appreciated owning a bicycle and living in a city where traffic was next to nothing at noon , in the sweltering heat. I talked to the city. I told it about how i was going to write the best tic tact toe program ever . It told me about where to stop for a drink of water when i was tired. It led me through a maze of roads that connected all the junctions i ever wanted to go. I'd cycle along idly, watching people. Sometimes looking at the girls . The city used to smile then.

Then came college. The city again became a lake filled with weeds and plants that i had to navigate and push through. I started hating the buses again. It was as if every moment spent inside the city was a moment lost from my life.

Then came the time that drummed into my head the fact that the city was an inseparable, intimate part of me. I got a job at Kochi. A city that didn't trust you and you hesitate to trust. I tried to talk to it during the lazy Saturday afternoons and evenings i spent there. It kept questioning me. It made me feel as if i would never belong there. It told me that it would never be able to adopt me - I didn't belong there. That i would always be an outsider, but it promised me that i wont get lost in it ever. So i began taking long walks, sometimes sitting on the Marine Drive with a book , half the time looking up from the book to see what the people were doing. Sometimes taking long walks that would invariably end up at Kaloor somehow.

I'd come home every fortnight. And every time I put my foot down on the railway platform , some kind of heady energy rushed up through my feet. I'd walk , I'd run . It was like i was enjoying every bit of my city. I liked those cold nights. And then one fine evening after seven months of separation from my city , i got a call back , i can now be home - i got a job at Technopark.

I came back. But then things became blurred. The travel to work involved either getting on the company van , or going off on the Kinetic Honda and later Unicorn , navigating the traffic, cursing the people who jumped across you , who cut you off during the calculated overtaking maneuvers. People didn't matter now . It was always the 'way' - The Right Way . Always finding the best route . The city spoke to me again . It secretly helped me along . It showed me patterns in the traffic. I only have to look at the traffic and I'd immediately know the best path- not the shortest , but the best . Nobody cut me off after the city started speaking to me again.

Then i was sent off to see a city that spoke a different language. Of orderliness and courtesy. A city on a river bank with bridges crisscrossing it.It said that it was nicer than my city that "Look ! There is snow here ! There is no blistering heat , and the people are always courteous and will help you navigate. There are places you can go sit and read a book quietly . You can take a walk safely on the sidewalk . The traffic is not mad ". I would have accepted it . But i missed the people.

I pined for my city. I dreamed about it . I came back after two months. I almost cried when i set foot back inside my city. And the city welcomed me back with a warm summer.

Then it was back to the daily dash to work and all the monotony .

So it was for a long time. A walk , all alone through the city was a forgotten thing, until about a week ago. I had to walk again . A short ten minute walk. The city whispered to me - "Look ! the people ! look at them ! " . The people had changed. It was like i was walking in an altogether different place. But the city's gentle voice reassured me - It was only the people that has changed . It told me that the girls who'd walk by with heads down, giggling among themselves had grown into women who'd take off on their Activas and Marutis . That the boys have all grown up and became people who celebrate each weekend as if it were the last. The people are now rushing about to 'enjoy' life instead of moving about at a leisurely pace. That there are a lot of people in the city now. A lot more.

So I was waiting for a bus again , no longer mad at the city for making the buses late. The city sent a gentle wind through that calm nice evening . It told me that it was fading, that it was going away , and that another is taking its place. But it said that it would keep in touch until it was gone completely and introduce me to the new one taking its place before it left. I said adieu and smiled. I looked up and saw a boy in a white shirt and black pants, riding a bicycle , smiling to himself and disappearing into a by lane. Suddenly , growing up seemed the stupidest decision i ever took. I sighed, got on a very crowded bus and got back home. I had pleasant dreams that night.