I’ve always found Ahmadabad as one of the finest cities. And one of the difficult ones too, till I explored it two days ago. On my way to Ahmadabad from Gandhinagar, a frequently travelled route due to office chores, the change was visible clearly. Gandhinagar is a very open city, Ahmadabad as opposed to it is quite closed one. Gandhinagar is green and wide, Ahmadabad is half green and narrow. But Ahmadabad is more beautiful.
While one goes inside Ahmadabad, it is a typical city with shops all around and traffic jamming the roads.
All fresh roads, but well versed with daily traffic load shone proudly in the sun and street lights. On the way, the first was intimidating Ahmadabad Cantt, with its typical army construction and ambiance created a nice and pleasant impression. Covered with trees, ride till its end was pleasurable, even though packed with traffic. At its end came other posh areas of the city. Ahmadabad’s heart lies there, in the shiny roads and perfect flashy showrooms with greenery covered roads.
Ahead of it was a completely different view, the Sabarmati River Front. Water brings a different happiness to man. It brought a fresh breath from the congestion of traffic. Riding along the Sabarmati brought me to the other side of the city which felt like a separate attachment. It was lined by small shops and the ambiance was a bit tensed and poor. It showed a totally different side of the city, populated by a different set of people. Everything seemed scared and scary there.
From there, the Kankaria lake was to be reached. It was a fine place, especially at night. Beautiful lighting with cool breeze took away tiredness. A hand in the hair or a pat on the back was soothing. Talks and the walk were an endless affair with food, accompanied by grabbing intimidating straight look in the eyes.
Next evening at the Kalupur railway station was a teary affair though. Trains coming and going brought in many memories, because the roots of the writing lie in travelling and railway is the gateway to it. Hands could gather courage to wander in restricted places after 8 long years. The warmth of holding that arm was like a reward of years long of patience and wait.
Goodbyes are always teary and sad. But this goodbye seeded in me an infected seed of hope and expectations. A Seed of hope had germinated and two little leaves were visible though. A seed of expectations never germinates. Which should be thrown away as soon as possible. Because making the seed of expectations germinate, is like waiting for that train coming from 900 km far away with no one boarded.
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