Friendship Day 2023

 

Saturday August 5th and Sunday August 6th

It was a weekend like no other. 

My school friend Reena who now lives in Sydney Australia was in India for a week. We decided to meet in our home town Khopoli. 

Another classmate Nirmala lives in Pune. We decided we would travel together. I took a rickshaw to Pune Station at 7:00 am. When I called Nirmala to see where she was I realized I had goofed up. Instead of Shivaji Nagar I had come to Pune Station. Nirmala assured me I still had time at hand. Through the drizzle and muddy road I carried my bag outside looking for a rickshaw. Notwithstanding the bullying of rickshawwallahs demanding three times the normal fare I found a guy who was ready to charge by the meter reading. Within 10 minutes I was at Shivaji Nagar station. Climbing the over bridge I made it to the platform where the Lonavala local train was already arrived. Got into the train and saved a seat for Nirmala. She arrived and we were on the way. 

I don’t recall when was the last time I traveled by train in India. Specifically local train. It was such nostalgia for me. But this was just the beginning. Majority of passengers in the compartment were young people in their teens or twenties headed out to college or a weekend outing. The train hurried out of the metropolitan area and I couldn’t get enough of the greenery that abounded outside. As far as the eyes could see there were paddy fields, trees, flourishing vines, ponds, streams, rivers on both sides of the railway tracks. Mountains lined the horizon and monsoon clouds crowded above to view the glory of the earth. The train stopped at various stations Chinchwad, Dehu Road, Malavli and so many names in between that I had never heard before. 

I couldn’t resist getting up and standing near the door, feel the gushing wind in my face as it blew my pallu all over the place and I struggled to keep it from flying in the face of fellow travelers. The unrestricted view of the landscape from the door was irresistible. Two young girls standing next to me happily took my pictures as I stood there soaking in that experience. 

Lonavala arrived and the entire train emptied there. We made our way out of the station using the elevator and over bridge. Nirmala stepped out in the rain to make a phone call to check if Reena had arrived to pick us up. I stood inside the entrance with the bag. Once confirmed where Reena’s car was parked we started walking in the drizzle. Less than 200 feet onto the road I saw Reena walking towards us. Just as we put our arms around each other I saw another classmate walking behind her. Rasiklal. As I greeted him someone from behind tugged at my bag and asked “ porter. M’am porter chahiye?”. Without batting my eyes I replied “no, thank you”. Then turned to see it was another classmate, Fazal. My immediate question was Manoj couldn’t come ? He said “ Manoj had to go somewhere.” We began walking ahead towards the car and from behind someone tapped on my shoulder. Turning around I was taken by another pleasant surprise. Of course Manoj had come! 

Six of us. 3 girls and 3 boys out of our class of twenty from 1981 SSC batch !! Rasiklal had brought his 7 seater SUV. We climbed in and there started the non stop chatter. They had managed to pull a surprise on me. In the train I had asked Nirmala if Fazal knew we are coming. With a straight face she told me no and I believed her. And then one after another the surprises poured out. It is hard to express the feeling. My heart felt full.

Our first stop was at a newly opened restaurant in Lonavala. A very elegant and modern place with both indoor and patio seating. We chose to sit on the patio. Reena had got matching outfits for us girls and insisted we change into those. Mine fit a bit snuggly, yet felt quite comfortable. I sported it all day with my gang. At the restaurant we filled ourselves with a variety of South Indian fare( dosas with malagapodi and ghee, idli sambar, medu vada, coffee).  Earlier in the train Nirmala had thoughtfully brought vegetable sandwiches for the two of us. Then upon meeting others at Lonavala station Rasiklal treated us to fresh jalebis and fafda. Our gastronomic journey was just getting started.

From the restaurant we proceeded to Khandala.  A half kilometer before Ekvira temple we stopped at a place where there was a crowd. Likely to enjoy a viewpoint. Fog was dense and there was no view of the valley. But there were vendors selling guavas and corn. Reena had been ogling guavas along the way. Here she had her chance to pick them. We cut two and relished them standing by the roadside, in the drizzle and fog. 

Next stop was near the old Amrutanjan Bridge. There was a formidable view of the one way expressway passing underneath. Duke’s Nose couldn’t be seen due to heavy fog. As I was trying to absorb the entire beauty of the atmosphere and processing the nostalgia my friends had something more going on secretly. They were busy with something out of the trunk. And suddenly I see this tray with a marzipan covered fruit cake brought out and a knife handed out for me to cut it ! They had planned my birthday celebration unbeknownst to me !! I have had many birthdays until now ( 58 to be precise) and more celebrations than that number. But this one was going to be amongst the top few memorable ones. These are buddies from childhood and our minds are connected without the burden of the paths that diverged from there. What is means and feels to get pampered by them and celebrate with them can’t be described in words. And when that moment of celebration happens on the summit of Khandala ghat overlooking our beloved Khopoli and in the moist atmosphere of monsoon it is bound to be etched into memory. 

By the way, that cake that Nirmala made at home was simply heavenly!! No store bought cake can come close. 

Moving on Rasiklal took us on a road that I had never been before. This splits from the ghat and leads to the town of Adoshi. A narrow winding road passing through forestland it was the perfect drive to enjoy the natural beauty of the season without traffic or crowds. We stopped at a turn from where there were expansive views of the valley. In the distance were some bungalows that were part of a new Hiranandani development. We took a lot of pictures here. Manoj had to leave at this point so he took off in Reena’s taxi. Rest of us were in Rasiklal’s car. Carrying on further on the same road we saw more forestland and some new construction before turning back.

Next stop Saimaal ! The resident quarters of the Tata Powerhouse in Khopoli. It was the childhood home of Reena and her brother Kantesh, who too was our classmate. Earlier we had him on the phone as we were leaving Lonavala. He lives in Northern California ( Bay Area) yet we don’t meet there. Our conversation happens when I am in India. Reena was craving for batata wadas and the locals know that the best wadas are available in Saimaal. We picked up wada pavs from the roadside vendor and drove up to Reena’s old home. Old memories flooded each of our minds because all of us would go to her home during school years and spend our time there. The swing her parents had installed near the entryway still hung there. Reena went and rang the door bell. The current residents were absolutely gracious and welcomed her ( and us) with so much warmth that we all felt really happy and grateful. Once Reena competed her emotional walk inside the house we pulled out our wada pavs and gobbled them down standing under a tree outside. Right next to Reena’s home was the Tata dispensary. When their resident doctor was on leave my parents often filled in for short periods. Those memories also came alive for me. 

We headed into the town from here. Rasiklal took the road past the Vithhal Mandir towards Upper Khopoli. We drove past the Vireshwar( Shiva) Mandir and Gagangiri Ashram. There were big crowds visiting the ashram. Here also in childhood my father would frequently take us all siblings. Past the crowds Rasiklal knew the backroads that led into the mountains and waterfalls. He parked the car and led us through the property of a resort. Behind this resort was a stream that carried the water directly from the closest waterfall. 

We walked in the wilderness, climbed on the rocks and played with the water. The terrain was very slippery though temptingly beautiful and inviting. We made the most of it within the confines of safety. 

From here we headed into the main road of Khopoli. Next stop, our school. Shishu Mandir. The students and teachers were in their classrooms. We peeped into the teacher’s room. Mrs Menon spotted us and smiled. She has been there for 45 years now and is probably the only teacher since our years in school. She took us all to meet the current Principal and Vice Principal. We reminisced about our days at school and they told us how much the school has grown since. Walking through those corridors past the classrooms that we used over forty years back made us feel like kids again. 

Reena was craving for corn on the cob and samosas. Fazal picked corn on the way near the municipal market and we went to Rasiklal’s home. His wife Daksha grilled the corn for us and made excellent tea with ginger and cardamom. She also fetched fresh samosas from nearby. Reena’s desires were all fulfilled. 

From Rasiklal’s place we first went for darshan at the Vireshwar temple. It was closed fir the afternoon earlier after our walk to see the waterfalls. The lake adjoining the temple was filled to the brim. 

From here we drove to one of Reena’s friends Balbir’s car service center. He served us tea as Reena caught up with him about his family.

Next stop was Fazal’s home. His wife Tabir and daughter Labina were both recovering from Typhoid fever. We chatted with them briefly then headed to see Nirmala’s mom. Aunty was delighted to see us. Her warm hug was always the same since I’ve known her. Filled with love and tenderness. Austin( Nirmala’s brother) was home too. We chatted for a short time and then took leave of them all. Nirmala stayed back. 

Reena bid us farewell and left for Mumbai in her taxi. She stopped Fazal home on the way. Rasiklal dropped me off to my home. 

After spending the entire day around town I was finally going home. My father’s home. Picked the keys from the tenant next door. The place was clean but terribly lonely. I caressed the bed where Baba spent his last days. Diana( Nirmala’s sister and now my dear friend) had not only sent someone to clean the home, she had very thoughtfully left some goodies in the kitchen. Bottles of water, instant coffee packets, sugar, cookies, and packets of Maggie noodles. She had plugged in the refrigerator. Because of this angel the home felt livable. I boiled water on the stove at night and made myself Maggie noodles out of one packet. It had been ages since I last had this. The hot soup with noodles felt really cozy in the comforts of the home as it was raining heavily outside. The rain Gods had been really nice to us all day long. I fell asleep with the song of the rain. 

Next morning I was up by 6 am. Nirmala’s last piece of cake was perfect to start the day. Around 9:30 am the tenants next door invited me over for tea. Her husband was recently diagnosed with diabetes and presented with a necrotizing infection on one foot that required surgical intervention. They wanted me to review his results and wound and give my opinion regarding the treatment that was recommended. He was showing much improvement with both the diabetes and the wound. 

In the afternoon Sadhana tai ( Kulkarni) our family friend had invited me to her home for lunch. I walked through the muddy streets of the busy marketplace. I ran into Hanif another classmate from school. We checked about each other’s family before taking leave. The market road was familiar though much more crowded than what it was in my childhood.

Seeing Ganesh idols being sold at the shop where once my mother’s dispensary used to be felt really nice.

Sadhana tai had cooked bombil curry as well as fried bombil for me. Had these with jowar bhakri and rice. She had also got some chicken biryani from a restaurant. The thought of biryani had crossed my mind the day before but I didn’t have the inclination nor appetite that day to go looking for it. The unspoken wish was fulfilled at her home. 

It was raining when I left her home. My poncho served me perfectly as I made my way back to my home. By 3 pm Rasiklal came along with Fazal and Nirmala to pick me up. He had booked tickets for us to go see the newly released Karan Johar movie Rocky aur Rani ki prem kahani. We would be picked up from there for our ride to Pune. So I had to take all my stuff along. I checked out of the apartment after one final look to make sure all fans and lights were turned off, no water was running, the fridge was unplugged. Left the keys with the neighbor and we were on way to the movie. 

It was the usual rich family, over the top scenes that are expected from any Karan Johar production. Alia’s sarees and blouses were attractive. But didn’t care for much else. The one thing I felt was the take home message was to steer clear of cancel culture. Judging people and canceling them from becoming part of our world happens all the time. We are just not aware we do that. Changing our mind set is important if we must grow and become better people. Mental paradigms must be looked at with brutal honesty and their faults corrected. Anyways. Other than this valuable lesson I can forget the movie. 

After the movie Rasiklal and Fazal accompanied us to the expressway. We picked wada pav on the way and munched on them in the car. At the expressway Nirmala’s daughter Kavita and her husband Varun picked us up. Nirmala’s friend Martin was with them. We chatted through our drive as it was getting darker outside. Didn’t realize when we reached Pune. Kavita summoned an Uber rickshaw ride for me at Nal stop. They all took off for Kondwa from that point.

Martin apparently told the driver I am a doctor. So as we proceeded home the rickshaw driver began to tell me about his health. He was a diabetic and not very regular taking his medication or keeping follow ups with his doctor. Sugars ran in the 500s. I was shocked to hear. He was concerned about the cost of healthcare. Even after reaching my destination I spent nearly 10 minutes talking to him, emphasizing the need for taking medication, following optimal diet and keeping regular follow up with his physician, trying to explain how much more expensive it would be if diabetes caused heart disease , stroke or kidney failure. He listened carefully. I can only hope he makes the necessary changes with his lifestyle. 

Back home now in Pune and lots of moments to cherish with me. Every moment spent in the company of friends was priceless. It just happened to be Friendship Day today. I had lived it with some of the dearest ones in my life. And had been in touch with more through virtual contact. 

It had been a weekend of friendship.