Ever had trouble with directions? Not the kind where you don't understand where right is, and go the wrong way, but the one where you don't know that right is the wrong way! Picture this scenario, you have been living in a neighbourhood for the past thirteen years, you recently went on a trip with your parents, let’s say to Goa (I love that place!! The beaches, the sunsets, the gentle breeze that blows, the churches, everything!) And you are the first to get down from the bus when you reach your street. A normal person would start walking towards his home, and let the parents follow you! But not for me. By the time I started to figure out which way our house was, my parents had gotten down and had given me the clue (and a scorn too, for not remembering the direction, but I ignored that) to where we lived.
This is one of the few memories that I remember of my childhood. My excuse then was that it was very early in the morning, I had just woken up, and it was very dark! But the memory still stayed. It’s funny how small things remain etched to your mind, only to be revealed at odd times, when you think you have outgrown yourself (and your memories). On a fun evening today with my friends (Kung-fu panda, and roaming in CP!! And the movie was AWESOME), this memory hit me, and faded. I must tell you that this was perhaps my first visit to the Connaught Place! Strange isn't it? Living in Delhi, and not going to CP once in two years? Well, roaming wasn't my thing ever. So when I confronted the giant square, with roads leading in every direction I saw, a big central park in between, after a few rounds of the place I forgot where I came from and where I was heading. Of course the recurring Metro Station kept telling me I have been here before. But to find the metro, I might have ended up going round the park full circle, instead of just turning back and seeing it right ahead!
I have always had problems remembering directions, unless it is a straight road full of landmarks. That of course hasn't stopped me from wandering about. It did allow me to be lost more than often, and find my way back (more through trial and error, and less through wits). My father used to tell me of the time when my Grand-father hired a taxi, and went touring all temples of India. His taxi meter later read 15,000 kms. And I have inherited the blood, but with the small flaw of directionlessness. First time I came to Punjabi Bagh, me and my friends tried to explore a shortcut that would take us to the next bus stop. Needless to say, I followed route, and we found the bus stop. I didn’t feel very good about it. I suppose it was only after that that I started noting the small turns the auto takes when I travel, the routes at the forks, the curves of the ring road, and how it is better to go to ISBT from Peera Garhi through the NH10 and not the outer ring road. But all the laughing and teasing and ramblings with friends threw me off guard today. And though I admit I didn't expect this after so much hard work, anyhow, I did enjoy it!
It is actually a great feeling to be lost. Our friend Mr. Perfect will not understand this, nor will the guy who runs scared of kidnappers. But to not know where you have to go (and have some money in your pocket); your adventure has begun my friend. Take the subway, walk in the random direction, ask the complete stranger, take another wrong turn, follow a bus, till you nail the place down! And the next time you come here, you can proudly tell your friend, that you ate at that restaurant, this shop is costly, and that pastry is awesome! That is, only if next time, you do remember where the pastry shop is :)
