During my stay for over a week at a cousin’s place in Padil, the railway station closeby constantly reminded me of my journeys down south to visit my dad while he lived in Cochin. Here, the days would have platform announcements coming from the distant station now and then. From the balcony outside, glimpses of trains were caught passing by at their regular hours everyday, moving fast on the track above a short cliff from the mud road slide front the house, tall coconut trees in line with other random bushes blocking the sight.
Some nights would have me up from sleep to their long loud honks. One of those was once when I woke up and turned to it chasing, full of lights inside. Through the door that was kept half opened I looked out, and sat with one hand on floor while the other on my thighs. Slipped back to sleep after it was gone.
Every vacation during school years, we’d travel southern places. Dad would take us to amusement parks. Other times, we – mom, bro and I – would sit inside the hotel room all day long, until dad returned from work. He’d later take us out to have food. Sometimes, mom would gain some courage and go out to roam after the morning breakfast. Holding us by hands. We’d visit fancy shops or temples. There had been instances when she’d get confused with the unknown roads and end up walking miles longer than required in quest before getting to the hotel. Unable to communicate with the people there was another problem we faced. They wouldn’t know Kannada like how we wouldn’t understand Malayalam. Mixture of both somewhere helped us in getting along.
Kasargod – Cochin – Thrissur- various other – Kanyakumari, I’d flaunt back in homeland that I’ve been to every place in Kerala. In Kerala, people preferred trains over any other transportation or it’s how we see it. The kilometer long stations, constant platform announcements, street chat vendors, laggage carries, people from different places; some waiting, some leaving, but trains and it’s journeys would keep moving.