Some times , in the morning I sit in our veranda sipping coffee, reading a book and listening to the birds. Yesterday morning was one such morning. I got up a little earlier than usual. My youngest maternal uncle and his son were coming for breakfast. My uncle was coming for his annual checkup in the cardiology department of the hospital in our town.
At 6.45 , I heard a train in the distance. We hear the trains in the evening too. Last year was an exception. There were no passenger trains at all. It is still difficult to believe that life had come to a standstill. I remember the eerie silence of the lock down days. Our house is not far from the main road. Now, early morning I hear the sound of heavy vehicles or the siren of ambulances rushing to the hospital.
The railway station of our town, Udupi, is not far away. Trains going to north India pass though the station but only some stop and only for a few minutes.
The sound of trains takes me back to childhood. My father worked in Indian Railways. We lived mostly in north India. Every summer vacation we came to our grandparents’ home from wherever we were living. It took us atleast three days and we were never bored during the journey. During Dussehra vacations in October or November, we went to my father’s elder brother’s home in Bombay, by train 😊.
But now it has been many years since we have traveled by train. There are so many stages in life and each stage is different.
My uncle is fine and he was very relieved. He and my cousin left after lunch. This uncle lives in the very house where my grandparents lived, the home to which we came every summer vacation, a home filled with memories.