My own city

Do you sometimes feel proud of how much you know your own city. Like when you get one of your friends from college or your colleague from office to your town and you introduce them to every small thing that you know in that vicinity. Like hey that’s the best pan shop in the area, thats the quickest way to the bus stand, OO by the way do you know this the largest escalator in India. It feels like introducing a part of you, asking them to say HI to the person i was in high school, telling them why I’m afraid of jokers or why the scorching heat doesn’t affect me kyuki itne mai toh mai football khelta tha.

So, I came back from my trip to Himachal, a tiny, trippy and serene journey including Kasol, Kalga and Tosh (and the underwhelming trek to Kutla). I stayed a day in Delhi to meet and greet my friends but as mummy always says "Time pe ticket karlo, phir nahi milegi” was quite right. So i decided to book a train ticket to Kota and then off on a bus to the place I live.

So i took an auto to Ajmeri Gate and hopped in the next train to Kota. A brief on Kota, its on the banks of the river Chambal, which distinctively flows in the opposite direction, i.e. South to North. It’s also famous for Kachori, Seven Wonders of the World, fans, ropes and well.. Allen. Besides being the “Coaching Capital of India”, Kota was also the home of my college friend who i shared a room with during my initial days.

I arrived at Sogaria Railway Station, on the slight outskirts of Kota where he picked me up. I remember the enthusiasm on his face as he told me about the roads to his coaching class, his school, his favourite pav bhaji place and everything that made Kota his and not the worlds. Sometimes i think a person is so much than what he or she is on the face. They are every part of every moment they’ve spent at a place. Every story, every moment of joy, every heartbreak has a part in them.

We went to his house where I was treated with their special rajma rice, lasun ki chutney, sev (which i thought was a weird staple to MP has it’s own fan base in Kota too) and mango paakh. After a while of rest we went out to travel around the city. I' had googled the popular spots but we never went there

We went on a outskirt bank of the river Chambal with a clear view of the power plant that energized the city of JEE and NEET. A can of magnum and a box of choti, I was set for the moment. The light drizzles on the riverside made the moment picture perfect. We then went ahead to another place behind a temple. This one closer to the power plant. I could see young people clicking photos, talking in corners and couples trying to find their own private moments.

Only thing in my mind was how all these moments that these people don’t recognise gonna be such canon events in their life. The conversations with their plausible first love, bunking classes to sit beside chambal, smoking their first cigerrate, or a walk with their best friend to bitch about your coaching class. Everything so small yet so important.

The city was not what everyone else talks about or what google or chatgpt tells you about. For a locals perspective it’s life unfold. A short film with moments, places, memories and nostalgia. As i sat in my bus back, all the Kota i knew was not what i saw but my friend has lived, what my friend considers home, what’s his starting point, his checkpoint.