A Vivid Memory of Homecoming - literally
With the total urbanisation, the residential areas are filled with houses and shops and other buildings. All have electricity and are well lit. Additionally, even the streets are well lit. So, there is nothing special when you go home or visit someone else.
But times were not always like this. (In many places on rural landscape, thankfully they are still not like this). When you came back home in the evening, you had to traverse a lot in darkness with lights visible only from dwellings spread far apart and separated by darkness in between. Finally when you were at a distance from your home with its welcoming light visible, the sense of eagerness and thought of the warmth (in winters even physically) would be very pleasing.
I remember one evening when I visited my grandpa’s house at Mysore. He was at the outskirts of the city, about half a kilometer off KRS road, in Metagalli. I landed up at Mysore at an unearthly hour of 9 PM! The city would practically go to sleep at this hour. I managed to catch the last bus going towards Metagalli. The last stop was P K Sanatorium. It was about a kilometer from my grandpa’s house.
I had to walk from the bus stop down on flank of a gentle valley and cross a small stream and climb on the other flank and walk for about half a kilometer to reach his house. The entire path was through open uncultivated land, reminding me of moors described in novels of Thomas Hardy. The weather was cool with a pleasant occasional breeze. There was only sound of chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs. Now and then sound of vehicles on the KRS road.
As I was walking along, the breeze brought some lines of a song being played in the not-so- sound proof cinema, waxing and waning as the breeze.
The combined effect of all these was great peace which I recall even to this day.
After I climbed flank of valley and stepped on to the plain ground, from a distance I could see the lights in my grandpa’s house. There were very few houses nearby and probably they had already switched off the lights. So there it was - looking majestic, inviting with its light being the only thing visible against dark background. It seemed to beckon me and the thought of going there was very soothing. I recalled so many descriptions in various stories depicting this situation. This was my very own experience.
But times were not always like this. (In many places on rural landscape, thankfully they are still not like this). When you came back home in the evening, you had to traverse a lot in darkness with lights visible only from dwellings spread far apart and separated by darkness in between. Finally when you were at a distance from your home with its welcoming light visible, the sense of eagerness and thought of the warmth (in winters even physically) would be very pleasing.
I remember one evening when I visited my grandpa’s house at Mysore. He was at the outskirts of the city, about half a kilometer off KRS road, in Metagalli. I landed up at Mysore at an unearthly hour of 9 PM! The city would practically go to sleep at this hour. I managed to catch the last bus going towards Metagalli. The last stop was P K Sanatorium. It was about a kilometer from my grandpa’s house.
I had to walk from the bus stop down on flank of a gentle valley and cross a small stream and climb on the other flank and walk for about half a kilometer to reach his house. The entire path was through open uncultivated land, reminding me of moors described in novels of Thomas Hardy. The weather was cool with a pleasant occasional breeze. There was only sound of chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs. Now and then sound of vehicles on the KRS road.
As I was walking along, the breeze brought some lines of a song being played in the not-so- sound proof cinema, waxing and waning as the breeze.
The combined effect of all these was great peace which I recall even to this day.
After I climbed flank of valley and stepped on to the plain ground, from a distance I could see the lights in my grandpa’s house. There were very few houses nearby and probably they had already switched off the lights. So there it was - looking majestic, inviting with its light being the only thing visible against dark background. It seemed to beckon me and the thought of going there was very soothing. I recalled so many descriptions in various stories depicting this situation. This was my very own experience.
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