Random Ramblings of a Reluctant Blogger

This romantic journey was long overdue. I had always wanted to take my wife on a trip to Vijayawada. Yes. you heard right, a romantic trip to Vijayawada. 

Vijayawada plays a seminal role in my life. For it was from here that I embarked on my journalism career in the offices of The Indian Express. And having spent almost six to seven years, it was where I grew not just as a journalist but also as a person. And I had always wanted my wife to get a context to the place of which I had weaved many a yarn. The trip was possible as we were visiting my wife’s cousin who stays in Jaggayyapeta, an hour-and-a-half drive from Vijayawada.

Visiting it close to three decades later, I was well prepared for all the changes and the metamorphosis the city might have gone through. Unless it is a Malgudi, no city will stop its growth just to indulge in a person’s nostalgia. 

And as we got down at the Vijayawada Railway station, I could not but exclaim it hadn’t changed much, the milling crowds were there, the noise, the rushing and the running and even the forever loud announcements that takes a special skill set to understand it, was the same. Yet the station has found space and has grown and is far far cleaner than it ever was. 

If there was a place where I spent a great deal of time, apart from the office, it was the  station. Late nights that stretched into the wee hours of the morning, meant this was the only place open to subdue the hunger pangs. Being a major junction connecting the north and the south of the country the station stays busy throughout with many trains passing by. Consequently,  hot idlis, vadas, omelets and any food was always round the clock. And just being a few furlongs away from the office, the post-night shift trip would invariably be to the station. That apart when any family member or friends or even friends of friends headed south or north I would make it a point to visit them. So much so that it became an inhouse joke that I should be given a quarters at the station, given the time I spent there. Little surprise that one of my first bylines that appeared in the weekend section was the lead story of the station and its workings. The station has not only stood the test of the time but has also grown with it. Unfortunately the office has fallen behind. 

Stepping out, the auto rickshaws have replaced the cycle rickshaw, in which one had to travel very very far for a rupee 10 ride.  Yes the growth of a city does have its own pits and falls. And the areas which once had been almost the last post before the outskirts had now shrunk into a main part of the city.

And as the rickshaw sped past, a few remnants of the old bylanes and streets seemed to nudge the memory cells. That I could spot it was a surprise even for me. One usually commits to the memory some reference points, some buildings and some lanes, but with time these points themselves undergo transformations and play havoc with what you can recall. 

But banking on my instincts, I took my wife around on an evening stroll, to some of the spots my friends and I used to frequent. One such place was the Besent Road, one of the busiest shopping hubs then. For us it was a hangout when we got our rare evening offs from our work. Apart from some bird watching, one of the favoured spots was the Modern Bakery. The aroma of freshly baked items that spilled out on the street was an irresistible magnet. A search did produce a Modern store, a bakery and department store mingled into one, but it wasn’t the one where I had the tastiest of the cakes and pastries, the coconut filled bun being one of their best. I did spot a corner pen shop,  which one of my friends, a pen collector of sorts, used to frequent regularly. It has now got a more practical look to the swanky one it had.  

The shopping hub itself has now added a few more lanes and stays as crowded as ever, but I do wonder if the youngsters have found some new hangouts?

Tracing the steps, still guided by instincts, I spotted a place where we used to gorge on some punugus (deep fried snack made with rice, urad dal and other spices). The stall however, was missing as was the theatre, Shanti, which has now become a multiplex mall. Just outside it was the tea stall where I had my regular morning cuppa and very tasty mini samosas. The lane opposite, where I lived was another challenge for my memory and try as  hard I did, I just could point out, with some uncertainity, a strange building where once, ‘my room with a view,’ existed.

We then visited the Kanakadurga temple, the presiding deity of Vijayawada. I have so often taken the steps, through One Town area of the city, to the temple situated atop the Indrakeeladri hills. Like much of the city the temple too has grown in stature. A huge complex has now sprung up encompassing the temple and lifts are operational for those wanting to visit it. The steps too, for those desiring to take it, are still in use, but I did not trust my instinct this time round to figure out where it began. The areas nearby have been metamorphosed into a very busy junction. Though the One Town, like in any city, retains its essential characteristics. The major changes are visible elsewhere.

Like the way to the Krishna Barrage. Navigating through the complex one-ways and busy street, what once took just a walk across the road, I took my wife on to the Krishna barrage over the river Krishna. The cool breeze and the peaceful vibes was a manna for the soul. In the days gone by we friends would often spend time on it, sometimes early mornings or late in the evenings, letting our hearts out, laughing at our struggles, spelling out our dreams and generally unwinding, as an occasional vehicle passed by. The traffic now is unceaseable, much like the river below and yet it was not able to dilute the tranquillity of the place. I once again let my memories flow and regaled my wife with hitherto unsaid stories.The thing with looking back is that incidents and moments, which at that time might have seemed depressing or laced with unending struggles, now make for enthralling anecdotes.  

Some of the messes, the tea addas, the frequently visited theaters, the street corners, where time stood still as we held meaningless discussions, have fallen to progress, while some have adapted. A day and a half is hardly enough to encapsulate and rewire all the memories, but that is all we had, given that we were headed to Jaggayyapeta. The vibes of the city, in spite of its transformations, has stayed fresh and the trip has only reinvigorated it. There are  still memories to refresh, steps to retrace, which I intend to do sometimes later and hopefully it will not take decades.