PUNE JOURNAL – I Hate To Say Goodbye

‘Spring is too busy, too full of itself, too much like a 20-year-old to be the best time for reflection, re-grouping, and starting fresh.For that you need December. You need to have lived through the mindless biological imperatives of your life (to bud, and flower, and show off) before you can see that a landscape of new fallen snow is THE REAL YOU. December has the clarity, the simplicity, and the silence you need for the best FRESH START of your life.” Vivian Swift, When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler’s Journal of Staying Put

December 2020: ‘Staying Put’ is alien to us (husband and me) as within forty years of married life we have moved a dozen houses inter-city and inter-country. Locating to Pune in 2018 was a natural sequence in this order more so as I needed to recuperate from open heart surgery in Dec. of 2017. The breezy clear environs, the friendliness, the smiles and helping hands of our closely knit 55 houses Society (Pune lives in Enclaves or Societies) worked wonders for my health. A neighbour was vocal… ‘When you first came you shuffled around and now it is chin-up brisk walk’. He demonstrated my walk and I was surprised how well he captured the magic of place….. more than all therapeutics combined.

My first visit to Pune was in 1972 and in a cliched statement “I fell in love with the city”. The verdurous rambling tree lined avenues of Koregaon Park, the majestic Banyan trees, the awe-inspiring National Defence Academy, Aga Khan Palace (former internment home of Mahatma Gandhi and Kasturba Gandhi), the temples and markets and forts, the Parsi bakeries and eateries, Shrewsbury biscuits and Vada Pav. The list is endless as Pune did justice to its role as a tranquil balance to pandemic Mumbai.

On a different wavelength the glitter and gloss was slowly fading but one dare not voice this to a Puneite. I tried once and got a earful of ‘best and first’ listings in food, lifestyle, education, technology etc., etc… Puneri pride to the fore. Sometimes one needs to clamp up and I dutifully agreed.

In September 2018 we trucked in our luggage…to dig in roots in this exclusive gated community of people from different regions and professions, sensibilities and choices. Made new friends, celebrated festivals and personal moments and enjoyed the collective benefits of staying together. In between there were trips to Canada, Maldives, Goa, New Delhi but returning to our new abode was a pleasure. A validation of our decision. This pic is of house lighted up for Diwali festival.

2020: The dream sequence was surreptitiously disrupted by an unknown virus that was going to storm the globe. Before we knew lifestyle barriers were bulldozed with individuals floundering for anchors. Travel restrictions to countries and cities; closure of market places/entertainment centres/ educational institutions; friendships on hold and it was turning asphyxiatic. We came to realise that having family around is more important than luxuriating in millennium whimsicalities. The fun layers peeled off and we took decision of breaking our 15 year association with our villa and most important the city.

When I come down

And look around

I can’t believe

The fantasy is gone like a memory

Out of my reach

Fading out from me

You’re fading out from me

(lines from Finger Eleven’s LIVING IN A DREAM song from their album LIFE TURNS ELECTRIC – 2010

As we sit kilted up in PPE gear in front seats of aircraft the two years of our stay flash past……It was not exactly a close knit family, but, as a resident quipped ‘we do take care of each other’. There were new friendships and learnings, evening strolls or discussion and sharing platforms, the crucial months of Lockdowns and curfews, uncertainties and disruptions of essential commodities, of neighbours caring for each other negating the feeling of being marooned within four walls. But the niggling emptiness persisted. Ultimately decision taken we packed our bags, donating extra stuff because no matter what the value of article it is difficult to dustbin choices.

The ‘tighten your seat belt’ sign flickers on. I scan the horizon for last glimpse of the city that was second home.

We wing our way to New Delhi

“Ageing is just another word for living.” – Cindy Joseph.  

We forget. I remember refusing my mother, she was in her 70’s, when she wanted to taste that one slice of Mango. A diabetic and heart patient her taste buds were synchronised with a sumptuous lifestyle.

Now, I feel sad and bad for not letting her ‘live.’

January 2021: A new year and a new beginning

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