When I was a kid our family used to go on a lot of pilgrimages, with trains as our preferred mode of transportation, thanks to my grandfather. And, of course as any kid, I used to love trains, even the smelly sleeper class coupes and train stations. Train stations were gateways and trains were the transport ready to whisk me away on an adventure, I used to think. But, there was another reason I loved them – bookstores. You can always find bookstores in a train station – a Higginsbotham bookstore, a RK Math outlet, or at the very least a nameless vegetable cart littered with magazines, pirated books and comics. These were the only bookstores I knew other than the magazine stall at Dilsukhnagar bus stop. And, it was here I first discovered comics.
Archives for June 2015
These days I feel old; not physically, but mentally. The world is changing fast around me, India has changed in the last few years. Or did I? Probably I moved from an India I knew to what we see now. Our experiences add colour to life or make it bland. We see the world through tinted glasses. We think what we see is the world. So, when we see someone with a different perspective, it feels very alien. Is that what is happening to me? Probably. But, I struggle with a deeper yearning: Where do I belong? To which India do I belong?