The city, Gurgaon, might have changed its name on papers. Officially known as Gurugram now. I still call it with the old name. A thought - why do the names get changed? Who started it? And why the process is being followed? A Daughter leaves her home after the marriage and the name gets changed. And that is awkward. Something that I tag as a stereotype. The answer to which I know I will never be able to get!! Or I will never be convinced with even if someone gives an explanation.
Coming back to the point - Gurgaon. As the title says 'The Favorite Corner in The City
And yes I too had one. So close enough to my heart that even if asked to arrive in the middle of the night, I without giving a second thought would head towards that place. Coming from the small city I fell in love with this millennium city in no time. Haha!! It is too early to let you know the reason or disclose my favorite place. I hail from a small town, raised up in a middle class family where meeting the needs was main focus. I somehow taught myself that if I need to survive here I need to adapt to this place. And while doing that I chose my most loved place. Somewhere in the heart of city. A small coffee shop, branded as CCD. Yes, you read it right. CCD was my most favorite place to go and sit. And those walls that were left. No, not alone but alongside my sister.
The best place in the city for me to sit and talk for hours. I could do that throughout the day. A different aroma altogether. Located in not so big mall, I felt it matched my class. The place I have cried secretly. The place I have seen the tears being wept by the talks. The place where I feel I left my childhood in. The reason - I don't remember much of my childhood being lived with her. Although the years spent teasing, irritating, fighting, caring, loving is all that I remember when we have grown up. And today it feels that time that was spent was really less😢. The ageing has just kept us busy. You (Dear Sister) would grow up prioritizing. And all I have felt is neglected. Families to take care and those tantrums to bear; I have somewhere kept myself shut and been waiting for that moment. The moment where I could again have my favorite cup of coffee and re-live my childhood. It's already been 2 years now. And ever since the last sip of coffee; I guess the doors to my favorite shop has also shut down. Maybe it opened it doors to someone else. The years gone not seeing you and just being in touch through those calls; its your hug that I miss. I miss the home that I felt as my own. Carried away by emotions. The chocolates miss being delivered to you. The pages of my closed diary often miss those re-opening, for the reason those pair of eyes have now no time left. 45 days from now I will see brothers and sisters celebrating the festival of "Rakshabandhan" and I am afraid what if we miss this occasion again!! The things have just changed. We missed out on my favorite coffee date before your departure. The doors to the shop are now locked. The talks are cut short. And maybe who knows the right time when would that approach. No complaints. The reason being I don't want you to cry when you are away. I have more to write and tell. However I will keep it for the next time when we meet on the coffee table and take a round in your Santro.
A promise I will never ever trouble you nor I will fight with you. Come back soon and give me that magical hug.
Your Brother
.....
That is a small story of mine. A kid who entered the city for the first time and received the equal amount of love and affection that was given to him by his family back home. The city I made my second home. The city which I was afraid to move out from when the comfort level was reached. The streets I want to re-visit. Who knows if the date I left this city was my last day here? Who knows if I ever get an invitation to re-visit the city. Who knows?
Comments
Post a Comment