It was a much-awaited trip, one that I would have liked to make with the best friend over a lazy weekend. While that never materialized despite our best intentions, I did get a trip with another close friend.
It was our favorite topic of discussion, visiting Sahyadri, the place we grew up. But I don’t think either of us expected it to happen so soon. Not that it was too far out of civilization. It was just about taking time out, spending one day there and revisiting our childhoods.
It happened rather suddenly. We got an email chain going and old ties were renewed. We dug out our old photographs, reread old love letters and recounted nostalgia. It was a bittersweet journey.
We hung out all of Saturday night at a friend’s place and bundled into the car next morning for a ride that we had waited eight years for. It felt like one of the longest journeys ever.
The once-familiar landmarks zoomed past, making us recount our memories.
Sahyadri looked as grand as ever. A lot more structures than what I remember but it was beautiful. I was finally home.
We spent the day walking around familiar pathways, each of which held a distinct memory. The steps where we sat and bitched loudly, with no fear of being eavesdropped on; the classrooms we longed to escape out of; the library where we spent hours weaving dreams; the dorms where we retreated after every heart-break, etc. The memories were countless. We just didn’t have enough time to sift through them all. Maybe we consciously left some for the next time.
We were all fairly quiet on the ride back home. Leaving the hill was heart-breaking. But we were glad we had returned if only for a bit.