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Showing posts from June, 2018

Why Malleswaram Railway Station Still Feels Like Home

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Malleswaram Railway Station — a place that never felt like “just” a station. A few months ago, someone forwarded me a video of an elderly lady speaking about the charm of Malleswaram Railway Station. She mentioned how, whenever her children visit Bangalore from Canada, one ritual remains unchanged. Her son insists on visiting the station, picking up idly from Raghavendra Stores, and eating it right there on the platform. I smiled when I heard that, because for many of us who grew up in Malleswaram, the railway station was never just a transit point. It was a quiet witness to our growing up. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can hear the metallic rhythm of trains slowing into the platform, the echo of announcements bouncing off the tiled roof, the smoky sweetness of roasted maize drifting from the bridge, and the soft warmth of idlies wrapped in paper from Raghavendra Stores. The station was never silent — but it always felt peaceful. For nearly a decade, ...

The insecurities

Akhil loves storytelling time.  He imagines a multitude and wants to convey a million things.  It's fascinating how blissfully he con construct something totally random and make sense of it.  There is a Neato cleaning robot at home which Akhil is super scared of and so we have carefully hidden it.  Every bedtime ritual involves something about this robot. Appa, tell me Neato stoiee (story). First, it went along the lines of, "Akhil pressed the Neato button.  The Neato went near Akhil's kaal (feet), Akhil got scared and so Appa pressed the button, and the Neato went back to the charging station." After some time, who pressed the Neato button was a game by itself.  Sometimes, it was a dinosaur; sometimes, it was his friend, Mukund.  Sometimes, Akhil was the savior in comforting everyone who was scared of the Neato. Storytelling has evolved over time.  It used to be me leading him on a story. I used to frame whatever imagination I had in con...