For almost a decade I have been taking a train to kerala, where I used to go to met my grand-parents. I used to always be excited. I don’t know whether it was the excitment of eating the train food or the various sounds and smells that overcomes one orifactory senses all along, or the taste buds that are tingled at various points of the way. My train journeys used to terminate at Kochi. the hub-bub city mixed with the traditional gaiety of rural life. I used to spend some time with my paternal grand parents and then move on to meeet my maternal grandparents. I used to look forward to this bus journey as well. I used to wonder if I would eat something on the way. the problem was I used to always put my stomach before me. Many years ago, my maternal grandparents passed awaay. I was feeling bad the entire week, and finally I wondered if I would ever travel that way again. Two years ago, a friend of mine and I were enroute to munnar from Kochi. The bus took the same route as it always took, national highway, turned right, turned left, went straight, etc. etc…. it was thn that I saw far away and noticed the far hills washed green with grass, embedded with golden coloured rocks, the lush green carpet of growing rice fields, welcoming me, the chirping of birds and insects, singing my song, th gurgle and the roar of the periyar river.
It was then, when it all made sense, I had seen the scenery more than a hundred times, but on that day in april, on that bus, I noticed it, and it was on that day I truly missed my grandparents.
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I found this piece that I had writen tucked away somwehere, and decided to blog it!