It should have been 1988-1989 or thereabouts. My sister Neela was married by then and settled in the suburb of Chembur. We stayed in Andheri (East).
On numerous occasions during this period, I would have visited my sister many times along with my parents. We usually took an auto rickshaw which, in those days, went through an area called Asalfa Village, a shortcut that took us faster to Ghatkopar and from there onward to Chembur. So I did have a vague idea of how the route went from where we stayed to my sister’s place. I also knew the commute took anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour depending on the day of week and the traffic situation.
Bear in mind, there were no smart phones at this time, mobile or otherwise – and consequently no GPS, no directional guidance unless you actually had a physical map of a city. Which I didn’t. Terrifying as it sounds today while I write this, it was a time when once you left home, you very literally got cut off from your parents and family.
I still hadn’t started going to college or using public transport on a regular basis. I was probably in 9th or 10th standard. I would either walk it out to school or take an auto rickshaw with some friends. I did have a vague idea of buses and trains but had not travelled alone on any of this at that point.
So I was in no way prepared for what happened one fine Sunday.
I don’t quite recall the context or reason why Appa chose to shake up that particular Sunday.
It was early in the morning. We both got ready and walked to the main road. Too many years have passed by but I do recall it was all very mysterious. I had no idea where we were going, but it was exciting to be going somewhere on a Sunday morning with Appa. At least that’s what I thought!
We reached the main road, and Appa hailed an auto rickshaw. He told the driver to go to Chembur, then he asked me to get in. I fully expected Appa to get in after me… instead he looked me square in the eye and said “Go meet your sister in Chembur and come back by lunch time”
Needless to say, I was shaking in my boots. All possible worst case scenarios began to play out in my mind all at once. Meanwhile the driver had taken off towards Chembur. In the fog of all that panic, survival instincts kicked in. The driver could not find out exactly how panicked I really was. That thought brought me out of panic mode very very quickly indeed.
Without realizing it, I had memorized a few landmarks that came on the way to my sister’s place every time we went there. I guess it happened without any effort on my part. With no smart phones around, the only entertainment on a long commute was to watch different buildings, unique shops or areas pass you by and they registered automatically somewhere in my memory.
I confidently told the driver to take the Asalfa Village route, feeling none of the confidence inside. With each turn and crossing however, the roads began to look familiar and I knew we were on the right track. The panic settled a little then, I began to believe I would not die that day at the hands of a rogue auto driver.
I still remember there was a shop as soon as you came out of Asalfa Village and reached Ghatkopar. The store sold fried snacks wholesale which would be packed in large clear plastic bags and hung on the window of the store, it always caught my eye when we passed by that area. That day, the sight of that store brought a big grin to my face!
It felt like a lifetime had passed but shortly after that store, I recognized the area where my sister’s place was and was able to tell the driver exactly where to turn and which street to head to, in order to reach my sisters place.
Seeing her house come up was like finding an oasis in the middle of a parched desert. She was probably surprised to see me, or maybe Appa called ahead, I don’t recall anymore. I spent some time with her and left a few hours later, in time to get home for lunch as Appa had instructed.
I hailed an auto rickshaw myself this time and confidently asked the driver to take me to J. B. Nagar in Andheri (East). Once again, the familiar landscape passed me by and the return trip was much more relaxed. In a complete contrast to earlier that day, I actually enjoyed the sights and sounds on my way back.
To this day I wonder, was Appa confident that morning when he all but dumped me solo into that rickshaw that I would come back in one piece? A teenager, a girl, with barely any travelling experience… when I was older and this memory came back to me, I always wondered if he was in fact more terrified than I was that day, but chose to do it anyway as a rite of passage.
I didn’t know it on that day, but whenever I recalled that day, I was grateful for whatever prompted Appa to send me off alone into a big city to fend for myself, even if it was just for a few hours.
When I came back home, he reacted like I was returning home from school or after hanging out with my friends, like it was any other day. We never spoke of it, that day or later in life. But the events of that day would come back from my memories many times over the years, no longer scaring me but rather lending me confidence in myself.
Thank you Appa for finding the courage within you to let me go and create this memory that never fails to remind me that when one feels lost, all one has to do is remember the key things that count and somehow, you will find the way home.