Last weekend, I was on the regular weekend train trip to back home in Thrissur. The train journey has been made hell for the passengers ever since the side-middle berths were introduced. Sometimes the middle berth is not allotted and sometimes it is. So you could see people wandering around looking for the actual berth number compared to what has been printed on their tickets. As the railway minister Lalu Prasad Yadav got more famous for making Railways one of the money making machinery in the country, the passengers have to travel in the thickly packed compartments, not even being able to move a little on their berths.
Some people even had to cripple themselves to fit in the berth, sharing the body heat of the co-passengers, sweating most of the times because the fans would not work sometimes. You point it out to the TTE and he would try using his pen to rotate the fan and if it’s failed he would walk on, giving a notion that it is not his job to make the fans work. So the lesson here is that you cannot hold the railway minister and his ministry accountable or responsible for the torture they give us for paying them and making them rich.
But train journeys still give some glimpses of real life, like the journey in the last weekend for example. I saw this family who came to see-off their mother. The mother is an old lady, who wore a red cotton saree which suited her perfectly well. The family accompanied was her son and daughter-in-law. They made sure that their mother got the right berth and placed their luggage under the seat. The old lady seemed to be comfortable with traveling, an indication that she is probably a frequent traveler.
“Amma, let me introduce you to Unni.” The son who seemed to be in his middle age introduced another man. “Unni was my class mate in the school. He is also getting down at Ottappalam station.”
The mother smiled at Unni. “Which compartment are you in?” She asked her son’s friend.
“I’m just a couple of coaches away. Call me if you need any help“, Unni was all smiles. “Why do you have to travel so frequently? You could stay with your son here.”
“ I tell her that all the time“, the son was happy that he got support from the friend. “She stays one month at Trivandrum and another at home in Ottappalam”.
“That must be really tiresome!“, Unni said.
“Yes, it is. But I want to do this as long as I can. Can’t stay away from the hometown for long.” The old woman said as she smiled.
I was amazed at that last sentence, but I could understand it so well because I share the same thought about home and hometown. I feel homesick on almost all week days. I miss going home everyday in the evening after a day’s work. The fact that I am single and not married doesn’t reduce the homesickness in any way. But I know that I am considerably lucky compared to some of my other friends who cannot come home on every weekend. Some of them are working in far away places in India and some outside the country. But on every Friday, I look forward to going home, spending time with my mother and meeting my local friends. It gives me a great level of emotional comfort. Every Sunday evening, when I wait for the train, I think of shifting my job to a place closer to home, which would let me come home everyday or meet the faces that I have been familiar with every since my childhood.
But the very next moment, I look at some of my friends who are easily adaptable to the situations in life. I look at them and I look at myself. That leaves me with total disappointment. There is a part of me who want to set out myself free. Who wants to work in different places, meet different people and experience life. I wished if I was less of a family man and more of an individualistic person who did not have much commitments with family in this stage of life. But then I realize the responsibilities and commitments I have in my family life and that holds me back. When I travel on weekends, I see many people making regular weekend trips to home. I think those weekend trips help them refresh themselves during the weekend and get back to work recharged.
So is this homesickness good or bad? With the kind of emotional support system that we have been getting from family and close friends at home and hometown, shouldn’t we give some of it back to them? By giving them the support (most importantly the physical presence) at the times they need it the most? Like in the case of our parents? But is it helping us, the individual, in anyway of growing up in life?
Why are we so emotional about this word, Home?
